Shadows
by Srellet
Summary: Not long after the Destruction of Alderaan and the Battle of Yavin, Princess Leia Organa joins a mission led by Han Solo. Revised story.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1:

Princess Leia Organa's fingers curled around the handrail as she stared at the purple waves glittering under the setting sun. The rickety boat rose and fell in rhythm with the wide river, and a warm wind whipped against her cheeks. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the spray of water that assaulted her every time the boat hit a particularly rough patch of river. She hated boats almost as much as she hated rivers and lakes and oceans and streams for that matter, but she refrained from sharing her feelings with her present company. She had no right, in her mind. After all, she chose to join this expedition. Besides, her fear of water was irrational, as were many of her fears these days. And she would _not_ let Fear overtake her life.

Leia inhaled the brackish air and carefully allowed it to escape her lungs. It had been eight months, twelve days, and twenty-one hours since she witnessed her home world destroyed, and a few hours less since she escaped the Death Star with Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. More than half a standard year had passed. The Alliance evacuated Yavin IV and had relocated twice since then. The rebels congratulated Luke and Han for their part in the destruction of the Death Star and returned to business as usual, their victory fading against the numerous battles lost. Luke earned the rank of Commander and Han and Chewie ran various missions for the Alliance, no doubt for a price. Everyone had moved on to the next crucial assignment, for there was only the "Now" and "What's to Come" that mattered.

Eight months, twelve days, and twenty-one hours had passed and Leia had been left behind. The oppressive hiss of Darth Vader's respirator, the antiseptic stench of her cell on the Death Star, the firework show that once was Alderaan…it all clung to her as if it happened yesterday. Yes, she had managed to smile her way through the medal ceremony held moments before they evacuated Yavin, she organized the relocations of bases as well as oversaw their dismantlement, and she participated in many crucial missions. But those eight months, twelve days, and twenty-one hours remained _yesterday_ for Leia. And she just couldn't seem to wash _yesterday_ away_._

"Almost as beautiful as the stars."

Leia's large brown eyes were drawn to the tanned arm resting centimeters away from her own. The heat from his body pulled at hers, creating a vortex between them that threatened her balance. A thrilling fright that she wanted to escape but couldn't. Couldn't? Or wouldn't?

"Not too late to turn back."

"Huh?" she looked up into Han Solo's hazel eyes.

"We can—"

The princess shook her head and straightened her posture, breaking the connection between them. She hugged an arm around herself to ward off the sudden chill. "No."

Solo pressed his lips together and leaned back against the handrail, "Me and Chewie can handle this mission without ya'. We have a good team. I hand-picked 'em."

Leia held her breath and stared at the railing, expecting it to crumble under his weight at any moment.

He crossed one foot over the other. "We don't need your supervision, Your Royalness."

"I'm not…" her large brown eyes floated to his face then abruptly narrowed. "I'm not so certain about that, Captain Solo!" she slammed a fist onto her hip.

Han snorted and shook his head, "I can't believe you! What have I done to make ya' not trust me?"

_Not trust him? _Leia's cheeks colored and her mouth formed a tiny 'o' as she inhaled.

"And don't give me that crap about not _officially_ joining your suicidal cause, Your Worship!" He yelled as he pointed a finger at her.

Her brow furrowed as her eyes slipped from him. She dropped her hand from her hip and let her arm twist around her waist. "I wasn't going to say that," she grimaced.

"What then?" his eyes widened challengingly, "You don't like the way I do things!"

"Of course not!" Leia snapped unintentionally. She blinked twice before glancing at the rail supporting him. "You're reckless."

"But I always get the job done." Han spread his arms wide and sported a lop-sided grin.

_And that's what scared her_. Leia grabbed the rail with both hands to regain her balance. Her fingers tightened around the cold metal bar as her eyes once again found the unsteady river.

"Yes, well, reckless _sometimes_ works," she conceded before looking up into his hazel eyes. "But _sometimes_ isn't the same as _always._"

Han mischievously smirked, "That's what makes it so fun."

Leia's features pinched together, "Fun? Almost dying is fun for you?"

He shrugged and rolled his eyes, "Best way to know you're alive."

She pressed her lips together and stared at her pale fingers.

_What are we gonna do if he gets himself killed?_

Luke's words on the Death Star as Han and Chewie took off in pursuit of a squad of storm troopers. Courageous, yes, but _what_ if he did get himself killed? Leia closed her eyes against such thoughts and uselessly wished to be on solid land.

The adventure-seeking smuggler adjusted his posture so that his upper body was turned toward her. "Com'n," he leaned his mouth close to her ear, "you can't tell me you're not here cos you need a little excitement in your life."

Her eyes involuntarily fluttered under the chill his warm breath incited. "As if keeping the Alliance alive while avoiding capture by Imperials isn't excitement enough."

"Maybe it isn't," he pulled away.

Leia's cheeks colored as her large brown eyes narrowed once again on the smug smuggler, "Trust me, Captain, the last thing I need is more excitement."

As she watched the playful glint in those cocky hazel eyes flicker out, she sank her molars into the fleshy part of the inside her cheek but defiantly held his gaze.

Han inhaled and slipped his hands into his pocket, "Yeah, maybe you just need a break."

Leia pushed herself off of the rail but didn't let go, "What I need is to finish the preparations for tomorrow's meeting." She pivoted away from him.

"How long did this take you?"

She stopped and partially turned back toward him to find one of her thin braids between his fingers.

"What?"

"All these little…twisty things," Han held the plaited lock up to the fading sunlight.

Leia frowned as she tried to decipher the smuggler's gentle expression. Was he teasing her? Was he attempting to engage her in small talk? Was it possible to have an ordinary-how's-the-weather conversation with Han Solo?

The princess studied the way the smuggler tilted his head as he inspected her hair then puzzled over the uncharacteristic softness in his expression. Her eyes floated from his face to the braid in his hand before she picked up another between her own forefinger and thumb.

"Too long," she stated.

No other hairstyle she donned took as long to finish as these intricate braids that mingled with spiraled curls to create a look of barely controlled chaos. It was the local style, and Leia had wondered on more than one occasion during the styling session how the women on Isise found time to fuss with their hair with their busy schedules. It had taken three standard hours and the help of several bored rebels to tame some of the disarray around her head. How she hated sitting for hours as her handmaidens twisted, pinned, and curled her hair while growing up Alderaanian royalty. She had defiantly refused to waste "precious" time getting her hair elaborately styled before…

_Before_ no longer existed, leaving _after_ for her to wish that she had wasted that precious time under the ministrations of her handmaidens one last time.

Leia cleared her throat, "I had help."

Han's lips stretched into a smile that was something between a leer and unadulterated approval, "I definitely like it."

Leia blinked her eyes as an unfamiliar heat flushed her cheeks. She exhaled and allowed her lips to relax into a light uncertain smile, "I dread undoing this…mess."

Han leaned against the railing and allowed the braid to slide through his fingers as the space between them increased, "I'll help you."

Leia eyed the handrail supporting him and furrowed her brow, "How? By cutting it off? I bet you'd love that!"

"Now, why would you think that?"

She opened her mouth then closed it before her countenance pinched, "_Why would I think that?_" Han lifted his eyebrows, distracting Leia from both the railing and her growing anger. She shook her head, "What do _you_ know about hair?"

"A lot," a renewed glint danced in those hazel orbs. "I live with a Wookie."

"Oh yeah," she touched her fingers to her mouth as if to catch the laughter that wanted to escape. _I shouldn't be laughing._ "I suppose Chewie must get some terrible knots."

Han squished up his nose, "Yeah, in places I'd rather not have to…untangle."

The princess shuttered and freed a stifled chuckle, "You must really care about Chewie."

Solo sobered as his eyes drifted to the rippling water, "Never had a friend like him."

Leia nodded and looked at the deck below her feet. She wondered how he would describe his friendship with her. Would he even consider her his friend? They hadn't known each other long, so it'd be reasonable that she was nothing more to him than an acquaintance. Maybe not even that…

Her chest tightened a touch, "You're lucky. Friends like Chewie are hard to come by."

Han slowly exhaled, "Yep. Not many beings you can trust your life with in this galaxy."

Her large brown eyes shift to the smuggler's wistful mien. A hint of pain clouded the intensity in his hazel eyes as he watched the river swallow the sun. The lapping waves of the river no longer sparkled but were reluctant to let go of the setting sun. Leia wrapped her arms around herself as the distance between them increased.

_What have I done to make you not trust me?_

_Absolutely nothing_, her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she stared out at the river, trying to see what inspired the hurt in his hazel eyes.

Leia, rested her forearms against the railing, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the unsteady deck below her and the black void of the water that made her foundation so precarious. Her trust in Han Solo was primal and unexplainable. Would he ever trust her like he trusted Chewbacca?

Once again her fingers wrapped around the cold railing, squeezing the rusted metal tight as if her life depended on it. Han's trust was like a rare qilp gem: the difficulty of mining the dull green gem was what made it so rare and priceless. Her unfounded desire to have Han's trust pricked her heart. He was a temporary presence in her life. He could leave tomorrow if he chose to do so. He could leave right now…

_What are we gonna do if he gets himself killed?_

"Hey," he leaned in to peer into her face. "You oh…?" Han closed his mouth then started again, "Untangling your hair could be fun."

Leia opened her mouth as her mind raced to catch up. Then one fine brow arched, "Fun? More like a challenge."

Solo reached out and brushed a few locks out of her face. "I've ne'er been one to turn down a challenge." He took a step back and pressed his lips together. "Those gonna be easy to wash off?"

The princess's fingers touched the brown freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose, "It should take a few days or so of vigorous scrubbing with the right solvent."

"Just don't go scrubbing too hard while were here," Han warned. "Wouldn't want anyone to recognize you."

She tilted her head, "Would _you_ recognize me?"

Han inhaled and crossed his arms over his chest while his hazel eyes roamed over her body. Leia tightened her grip on the rail and pressed her toes against the deck, fighting the strong urge to retreat. She felt both vulnerable and secure under his scrutiny, throwing her more off-balance than the river's random waves. Her tongue involuntarily explored the roof of her mouth as she braced herself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

"Lift your chin," he commanded, and she complied.

"So?"

"Yeah, _I'd_ recognize you," Han answered. "But I don't think any Imps would."

_He'd recognize me?_ Leia gazed into his eyes, so serious all of a sudden, darker, and her sense of security withered away.

She bit her lip, glanced down at her faded green dress, then looked up, "I blend in with the locals."

"Sweetheart," Han shook his head and smirked, "you never blend in."

Leia pursed her lips, "That's not good."

Solo's smile widened as a twinkle sparked his eyes, "You always look good."

Her brow creased but before she could absorb his words, the boat violently lurched and bucked. Han's hand grabbed Leia's arm, securing her between the railing and his body until the boat settled.

"Now, that's not good," Solo stared toward the aft of the rickety boat. "I'm gonna see what's the problem."

Not taking even a nanosecond to look at her, Han agilely stalked down the narrow walkway without the aid of the handrail. Leia's large brown eyes watched him until he disappeared into the primitive engine room. The warm breeze wafting off the purple water had cooled as the river finally consumed the sun. Her knees weakened and had she not been so close to the lapping waves, she would have let her body fall to the ground. Instead, the princess willed her feet to carry her back to the small nook inside the cargo hold that she had claimed for herself.

The shadows in the quiet followed her as she knew they would and she shivered involuntarily. _I will not let Fear control me. I will not…_ Leia swallowed, closed her eyes and listened. Muffled voices of the other rebels who volunteered for this mission, the clunking and spurting of the aged engine, the dark water slapping against the hull, Chewbacca's snoring... so many sounds around her but the quiet overpowered it all. Leia held her breath and closed her eyes and listened…there! Metal slamming against metal mingled with a string of Corellian curse words. Leia exhaled then dropped against the wall whispering a few Corellian curse words of her own.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Leia Organa stared at her reflection in the dingy looking glass on the refresher wall.

_I'd recognize you._

She leaned closer to the mirror to study her features, turning her face side to side then lifting her chin before staring straight into her own brown eyes. What did Han see when he looked at her? Could he truly see her through her disguise? They hadn't known each other for long. He couldn't possibly…

Leia scrutinized the heavy make-up applied to mask her true identity. Her large brown eyes were shaded with a charcoal gray dust and highlighted with a bold dot of emerald green no larger than a boga flea at the inner corners. Her lashes were cosmetically lengthened and bushed against the painted freckles underneath her eyes when she blinked. The rest of her mien remained naked save for a dark burgundy smudge on the center of her bottom lip. The complete illusion made the shape of her eyes appear more exotic, more doe-like. _Not_ Alderaanian, whatever that was.

Leia touched her pallid cheeks. _She_ barely recognized herself. Han Solo couldn't possibly… No, he was just trying to scare her, playing upon her fears to keep her from joining this mission…

_I'd recognize you,_ his words so confident, so certain. No teasing lilt in his voice, no…

"Hey, Your Worship!"

Leia bristled, stepped out of the refresher, and glanced up the steps leading to the upper deck.

"Hey, Your High-an'-Mightiness!"

Her eyes widened and retracted. "What do you want?" she yelled back.

"Get your royal-than-thou arse out here!"

"Why?" she sat down on the bottom step.

"Cos I said so!"

Leia's brow lowered and she tapped her foot, "Not much of a reason!"

There was a moment of silence and she tipped her head to the side, trying to distinguish words from the muffled voices above.

"Come on," Han's mock-begging tone floated down the stairs. "Just get up here, will ya?"

"It better be worth it!" she stood up and stomped up the steps.

When Leia reached the unusually wide bow, the other rebels were sitting about the deck sipping from steaming mugs and snacking on gogoi beans. The moment she stepped into their loose circle, backs straightened, jaws dropped, and eyes widened. Without acknowledging her audience, she glared at Solo who lounged against a crate with one arm propped upon a bent knee.

"What do you want, Captain?" she jutted her hip out and planted a fist on it.

"Need you to clarify some things," he grinned at her.

"I can only imagine what," she quipped as she tried to ignore the gaping crowd.

He squinted up at her then puffed out his chest, "I was just tellin' the guys here about how I—

Chewbacca grunted and nudged Han with his large elbow. Han glanced at his long-time friend, "with Chewie's help-"

Chewbacca shook his head and Han sighed. "Alright already! _Me an' Chewie_ not only faced down a massive squad of storm troopers but chased those yellow-belly Imps through half the length of the Death Star!"

Leia crossed her arms over her chest and arched her right brow, "As I recall, there were only four, and your banshee shrieking would scare a Rancor out of its skin."

"I was _not_ shrieking, Your Gloriness!" Han leaned forward, "I was using a Wookiee war call."

Chewie's brow lowered as he rolled his eyes.

"And," Solo folded his arms over his chest and adjusted his smug smirk, "_You_ weren't there when we ran into more of 'em."

"Are you claiming that you scared them with your so-called Wookiee war call?"

All eyes shifted from the princess to the smuggler. Han used his peripheral vision to inventory his audience as his mind raced. His smile widened and his eyebrows stretched up, "I forgot, Your Highest Highness. You an' Luke were busy _runnin'_ the other way."

"Ha!" the princess leaned forward and wagged a finger at him, "Under your orders!"

"Yeah, like anyone's gonna believe that," Solo's hazel eyes flitted around the group. His smile faltered slightly when no one appeared to be impressed that _she, the bossy, loud mouth Princess of Alderaan_ followed _his_ orders. From the expressions on his companions' faces, they weren't even listening to his story.

"Right," she nodded as she took a step into the lax circle, seemingly oblivious to anyone but Han, "because it would have been incredibly stupid NOT to run when storm troopers are shooting at you."

"Someone had to be…what was it Luke told me you said?" he tapped his finger against his chin and she tapped her toe against the deck. "Uh…somethin' about me havin' courage? That was it!" he grinned from ear to ear as he positioned his hands behind his head. "Yep, that's what you told Luke."

"And from what I recall," The right side of her lip rose as she pushed the dust on the deck around with the toe of her tawny boot, "Chewie told Luke that you blindly chased those four troopers right into a larger squad, and you ran screaming—"

"I don't scream!"

"No? I'm sorry. You ran whooping a Wookiee I-am-an-idiot call—"

Chewbacca roared, and Leia silenced him with a hand, "I'm not asking you!"

Chewbacca snarled, startling the rebels. Their uncertain eyes shifted between the seemingly angry Wookie and the diminutive princess.

"As I was saying," Leia straightened her spine and inhaled, "Chewie gave Luke a rather hysterical imitation of you running from all those storm troopers."

"What?" Han looked at Chewbacca who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Yeah, sure. Some friend you are."

After a pulse, the smuggler pushed his lips together and returned his attention to the now-smirking princess, "Yeah, well there are always two sides of a story."

"And I think we all know whose side is the most accurate," she snarked, and Chewbacca gurrawphed.

Han threw his hands up in the air, "I gotta pick my friends better."

The Wookiee whorlphed, poured an amber liquid into a tin cup, and handed it to the princess. She graciously smiled and looked at Han, "Thank you, Chewie."

"Take a seat, Your Worship," Solo reached over to a clear spot on the deck, dusting it with his hand. "Join our merriment."

Merriment? Leia glanced around without letting her eyes fall on anyone for more than a second. All the muffled voices layered upon laughs that swept down to the cabin below moments earlier, warming her like an Alderaanian summer breeze, were gone, leaving only rigid postures and nervous tension in its blusterous wake.

She pasted a Senatorial smile on her face, "Thank you, but I have…work to do."

"You act like you're the one runnin' this mission," Han challenged. Leia opened her mouth but Han held up a hand, "It's my mission an' I'm the one in charge."

The princess' eyebrows rose, "I believe _I'm_ here to make sure you don't screw up."

Solo narrowed his eyes, "No, you're here cos you insisted on being' here."

She pressed her lips together and gazed into her cup. He was right. No one thought she should be near the orbit of a planet under the Empire's control let alone land-locked on a planet crawling with Imperials. Han had protested the most. _It's not safe._

Nothing is, she told him, and he silently nodded before giving in.

"Your here," his tone softened, recapturing her attention, "so you might as well be here."

Han leaned back, glanced at the other rebels, and rolled his lips between his teeth. He took a moment to read his thoughts in Chewie's blue eyes.

Leia frowned at the deck as she slid one step out of the group. Han shifted, moving a centimeter toward her, "Here, let me refill your cup."

Her large brown eyes studied her untouched drink before looking into his hazel ones. Certainly everyone had noticed she hadn't taken a sip…She stretched out her mug and pushed a lock of unruly hair behind her ear. Han climbed to his feet and wrapped his hand around the bottom of the cup before she could retreat. His fingers touched hers causing her to forget the reason she wanted to leave. She watched him tip the decanter and pour the warm liquid with such care that it appeared he was filling an empty cup. Then he righted the decanter, doled out a brief conspiring smile, then returned to his place amongst the rebels as if he never left it in the first place.

Leia took a moment to breathe in the tart smell of the cider. She crossed her right foot under her left and gracefully floated to the floor. She touched the cup to her lips as she glanced at Han over its rim.

The chagrin in his eyes dissipated when he caught her watching him. He held his cup up and then took a large gulp, "Does it please your royal palate?"

She rolled her eyes, "Not what I expected."

"What didja expect?" those hazel eyes pierced hers. "A spice-laced concoction?"

"I—"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sweetheart," Han grinned before using his mug to hide his delight. "Important mission. We mere mortals can't do our best work hung over. Of course, I'm sure Selond can dig somethin' up if you want somethin' stronger than behrida cider."

The rebel named Selond opened his mouth and looked around the group, "Uh, yeah—I mean, yes…but..."

Leia smiled politely at the fumbling man, "That's not necessary. Captain Solo is just teasing me at your expense."

Han's eyes widened, his brow rose, and his mouth opened, "That's a serious accusation, Your Worship."

"Why don't you just pour me some more behrida cider, Captain?" she held her cup out.

Han's face glowed with his amusement as he "refilled" her cup again, mesmerizing Leia. The water stilled, the golden light from the lantern heated the air, and everyone and everything but Han ceased to exist. She slowly inhaled and held in the moment, wanting to hold it forever. But her cup was filled and the world poured down upon her. She grabbed her mug with both hands, closed her eyes, and feigned her enjoyment of the tart cider. Quiet conversation resumed around her though the festive mood that sounded so inviting to her when she was below deck lacked its earlier luster.

Leia smiled and laughed at the appropriate moments, but the tension in the air thickened with the slow hands of time, and she was quickly tiring of her charade. Han's eyes shifted to her at random intervals and he reignited the discourse with more exaggerated stories of his adventures at each lull. The princess appreciated his attempt to include her, but she knew she was the source of the stifled joi de vivre, mainly because lately she was always the source. Her shoulders sagged as she stared into her cooling cup. No one knew how to be around her. No one but Han, that was.

The princess stole another glance at Han. "I think it's time for me to call it a night."

Leia put her cup down, rose to her feet, and pasted a polite smile when everyone but Han and Chewie started to climb to their feet, "No, please don't get up."

"Need an escort to your cabin, Sweetheart?" Han waggled his eyebrows and a swift silence followed several sharp-intakes of air.

"I think I'll be okay, Flyboy," she rolled her eyes. "This boat is much smaller than the amount of air swirling between your ears."

Leia pivoted on her heel, smiling to herself as the sweet music of laughter—Han's cachinnation overpowering the others—followed her. But when she reached her designated space in the cabin, her pleasure dissipated and loneliness once again settled back into her stomach. She slipped out of her dress, sank into the lumpy mattress, and stared at the ceiling. The muffled voices above, animated and unrestricted, were overpowered by the haunting quiet that relentlessly followed her in solitude. Leia positioned the pillow over her face, closed her eyes, and tried to remember what it was like to just blend in.

_Sweetheart, you never blend in._

She grimaced beneath the pillow. Han had a point. It was hard to blend when you're royalty, but she couldn't remember ever feeling so awkwardly out of place. When her father finally allowed her to join the rebellion, she felt like she belonged. She was just one among the many rebels fighting for freedom. Then the Death Star happened...

She shivered and sighed into the pillow. Now when she walked into a room, moods sobered, eyes were averted, and voices hushed to little more than a whisper. Leia would pretend not to notice but as she started volunteering for missions, it was getting harder to ignore. She became the grim reaper the moment she stepped into a room, reaping pleasure rather than souls.

The princess' eyes snapped open beneath the pillow. Something didn't feel right…

Leia sat up and dropped her bare feet to the ground. Just as she was about to stand the boat groaned and lurched to the right.

"Let this just be a dream," she whispered.

As if to answer her entreat the boat bucked, knocking her off the bed. Leia's chest tightened and she crawled her way to the stairs. She grabbed the stair rail and pulled herself up each step still hoping that this was all just a very realistic nightmare. A chill shivered up her spine. She whipped her head around as her eyes searched out shadows in the dark cabin.

"Leia! Get to the bow!" Han's command was only slightly louder than the cries for help.

The princess leaned against the wall as she made her way across the deck. Her mouth formed a stretched '0" at the frantically chaotic sight. Men fired their blasters at the shiny gray creature flapping its prickly fins against the hull of the boat. Though the river creature was minimal in size its dagger-like teeth tore off a chunk of the handrail from the rickety boat stern. Its scaly tentacles swiped at the nearest rebels, knocking a few in the water. Leia's large brown eyes swam through the battle. She bit her lip and held her breath. She needed to join the fight but couldn't until…

Always quick-thinking, Han Solo's commands rang out loud and confident, and Leia remembered how to breathe. He fired his blaster at the beady yellow eyes and directed others to aim for the tentacles before another rebel was pulled into the water. The boat was violently rocking and creature's eyes were so small, Han couldn't possibly hit his mark. And the swift-moving tentacles made the other rebels' targets practically impossible. To make matters worse, shots that hit the razor sharp fins bounced back toward the rebels forcing them to find cover behind the nearest cargo crates.

Leia bit her lip and searched for a more appropriate weapon. If only Luke were here with his light saber. At least then, they would stand a chance. The blaster fire slowed the creature but didn't deter its attack. There had to be something better. She closed her eyes and recalled the various tools lying here and there around the pitiful boat. There had to be something no one had thought of trying yet…

The princess' eyes popped open and she stretched her neck to see down the narrow walkway. If she remembered right, a couple of rusty net guns hung on the wall on the starboard side of the boat. Unfortunately, those ancient weapons were inconveniently closer to the bow than to the stern. Leia's stomach fluttered. She had to find those guns, but her feet refused to move as the boat continued to rock and buck beneath her.

She looked around. Someone else would be faster than she but even the injured rebels had their hands full with their determined predator. The boat tipped to the right before bouncing to the left, knocking Leia off of her feet and into the wall. Her large brown eyes searched for Han. There he was in the middle of the action. His triumphant smile and relaxed stance gave Leia enough courage to find her feet. She, too, grinned when she saw the creature's scorched left eye. She lifted her chin and swallowed her fears.

"Selond!" Leia yelled, hoping that was the man's name. She took a shaky step closer to the battle. "Se—ah!"

The princess squeezed her eyes shut as her body hit the rough deck and slid toward the water. Her fingers splayed out grasping for something that would stop her inevitable swim. She sucked in a large breath then let it out. Would it be best to catch her breath when she hit the water or before? What if she swallowed the water while sucking in her final breath? How long would she have to hold it?

A large soggy hand grabbed Leia's right upper arm and jerked her to a painful stop.

"Chewie!" the princess cried out.

Chewbacca gorrophed as he helped her to her feet. She brushed back her tangled hair before taking his hand, "Net guns! On the starboard side. If we—"

The Wookie nodded and roared. He led her to the wall before he tore down the walkway like a silrido after a binder fly. Leia pressed her back against the wall. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her mouth grew drier with each crashing wave. She closed her eyes against the chaos, against her desire to find the driest safest spot on the boat and hide there until it was over.

"Leia!"

Her name slammed hard against her chest.

"Get to the stern where it's safe!"

Leia opened her eyes. Han kept firing at his target but the attention he spared her was interfering with his accuracy.

_What'll we do if he gets himself killed?_

The princess forced her knees to hold her weight and took a step away from the wall, keeping one hand flushed against it, "Worry about yourself, Captain!"

"Chewie! Get 'er outa here!"

A large hairy paw clamped down on her shoulder as Han returned his attention to the thrashing river monster.

Leia wagged a finger at the dripping Wookiee, "Don't you think—"

Chewbacca howled and deposited a net gun into her free hand. His nimble fingers flicked and pointed as he growled and grumbled. Leia's eyes followed each gesture as her ears strained to understand Shyriiwook. Chewie grunted and waved his large hand. She crouched low, centering her weight between her legs and followed close behind Chewbacca. The Wookie lifted the net gun to his shoulder and fired.

"Good shot!" Leia exclaimed as the steel point pierced through the creature's tough skin. The shaft of the spear popped, releasing an aged net that captured a tentacle and a lower jaw.

The creature's free tentacle thrashed around, slamming against the boat, knocking both Leia and Chewie off of their feet. She bit her bottom lip and grabbed the nearest net gun. She lifted the heavy weapon but found her hands too shaky to aim correctly. If she missed…

"Chewie!" the princess crawled to the Wookiee's side and pushed the weapon into his hand. "Aim for its mouth! You can't miss!"

Chewbacca grabbed the heavy net gun from her hands and took aim. Leia knelt down and started to cover her ears, but a frantic cry stole away her attention. Selond howled and kicked and wildly fired his blaster as he fought to free himself from the rough tentacle. One blind shot clipped Chewie's right shoulder. The Wookie yelped in pain and dropped the net gun.

"No!" Leia cringed. "Chewie!"

Chewbacca grabbed his wounded arm and moaned. Leia rushed to his side. "Chewie…"

Chewie pushed the net gun toward her with his leg. She opened her mouth and shook her head. "What if I miss?"

The Wookie growled and the princess jumped back. She then surveyed the chaos aboard the boat, the blood slick upon the angry water, and the rebels fighting for their lives, for her life. Her large brown eyes zoomed in on the rusty anchor resting on the slippery deck.

"I'll be back!"

The princess grabbed the nearest blaster and scrambled over to the anchor. It took only one shot to free the anchor from its tether to the boat. With the ease of a sea worthy crewman Leia secured the severed rope to the end of her net gun. She lifted the weapon as the thick tentacle swooped down and crushed the struggling rebel against the bent handrail. She adjusted her hold on the weapon, sighted her precise target- the middle of the swiveling appendage- and prepared to fire. Then the tip of its ominous limb wrapped around the foot of another rebel coming to the aid of the first.

"Sith!" Leia cursed, readjusted her stance and raised the heavy spear gun higher so that if her shot was accurate—and it had to be if she were to succeed—the odds of the captured man's survival would more than double. She sucked in a breath, closed one eyes, and pulled the trigger.

"Ha!" Leia smiled.

The creature howled and thrashed around, releasing its hold on the limp rebel. It managed to tangle two of its tentacles with the rope attached to the spear but the rope remained loose, and it wouldn't take long for the creature to free itself. Uttering an Alderaani curse, she hastily put the second part of her plan to work.

"What the hell are ya' doin'!" Solo turned his red face to Leia.

"Coming to your rescue!" The princess picked up her blaster.

"We don't need your rescue!" He yelled then fired at the creature. "Get to the bow where it's safe."

"Safe is a relative term, Captain!"

"Leia!"

She glared at him before rushing to the anchor.

"Chewie!" She yelled as she pushed the anchor to the side of the boat.

Leia watched the rope as the ruthless river monster renewed his attack with greater enthusiasm. She cringed. She hadn't expected the anchor to be so heavy. The princess dropped to her knees and pressed all of her weight against the anchor. Although she was able to push it to the side of the boat, she lacked the strength to lift it from the deck. Time was running out, and if she failed, she would find herself in the churning water or stuck between those blade-like fangs.

A familiar growl-whorl caught her attention, and Leia smiled in relief as Chewbacca raced to her side. Her lungs deflated and her shoulders relaxed, thankful that she didn't have to explain her strategy to the Wookiee. Chewbacca lifted the aged anchor with his good arm and threw it with such force that the anchor pulled the rope around the creature's tentacle and jerked the left side of its body back into the water. It gnashed and snapped but couldn't untangle itself or chew through the rope attached to the anchor. Leia grabbed the rescue hook and helped Chewbacca pull the rebels out of the water. The rest of the rebels who could still fight showered the beast with blaster fire until it retreated.

Han swiveled around and gazed upon Leia. Despite the distance between them, their wounded and fallen comrades, the broken boat, she could see his admiration in his hazel eyes. Never had she felt more proud of herself.

"Help!"

A tentacle lashed out and caught a rebel's ankle pulling him into the water. Solo reached into his right boot, pulled out a vibroblade, and dived after the creature.

"Han!"

As Han and the creature disappeared from sight, the raging waves simmered down to a gentle rock. Leia's legs wobbled and her body swayed less with the rhythm of the broken boat than the numbness that threatened to paralyze her.

"No," Leia whispered as her knees gave out.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3:

Princess Leia's large brown eyes watched the purple opaque water smooth over like Dantooine glass. She clutched the mangled handrail as her knees turned to jelly. Seconds were passing and seconds would soon be minutes, and then one minute would be two and three, and she knew no one who could hold their breath that long.

"Please…" she bit her lip to hold in her entreat.

The princess glanced over her shoulder, her eyes swimming around until she found Chewie. She cringed at the sight of the Wookiee's wound. The blaster shot that clipped him was much worse than she had initially thought, and the way he lifted that anchor with her- he doing most of the lifting—that selfless action most likely worsened the injury. Chewbacca howled and moaned as his injuries were being tended to while those tending to him gingerly wrapped his arm. Leia pushed the back of her hand to her mouth. If Chewie knew that Han went overboard, he would worsen his wound trying to save his best friend.

"Huuuckk!"

The princess flipped her attention back to the water, and a gasp of relief escaped her as she reached for the arms stretched toward her. Hands, large and strong, grabbed her arm, hands that did not belong to Han Solo but to the man Han had intended to save.

"Help!" Leia yelled as she tried to pull the man to safety. "Hang on!"

Two men came to her side and pulled the rebel onto the boat. The princess grabbed the man's shoulders as he coughed out the water caught in his lungs.

"Where's Han? Where is he?"

"I…ugk… (Cough)…I tried to help him," he panted. "His foot….ugk…got caught on…ugk, ugk…something. I tried…ugk...I…"

She wrapped her fingers around the bent railing, stood up, and glared at the water.

"Your Highness," she felt a hand on her shoulder. "He's been down there too long. I'm sorry. It's too-"

The princess sucked in a large breath, closed her eyes, and jumped feet first into the warm water. She felt so heavy and light at the same time, and she wanted nothing more than to swim back to the surface. She forced herself to open her eyes and was rewarded with the sight of Han struggling to free his foot. Leia swallowed down her fear and swam deeper until she was in reach of his leg. She pulled on his leg then tugged at the gnarled roots that held him captive. Every time she jerked one root away another took his place. All she had to do was work faster and everything would be okay.

A hand clamped around her shoulder and hauled her away from the roots. Leia's large brown eyes gazed into Han's, and he clumsily pushed her toward the surface. She vigorously shook her head, her remaining breath escaping in bubbles, but the dazed look in his eyes and his lack of strength stole away her self-control. Leia kicked her feet and parted the water with her hands until she reached the surface.

"Your Highness!"

Leia coughed, "A vibro knife…does any…one have…"

"It's too dangerous!"

"Han's still alive!" She yelled as she swam away from the boat. "Chewie!"

"No one can hold their breath—"

"I have one," someone called out.

"I'll help you!"

Leia inhaled until her lungs were filled with as much air as she could possibly hold and disappeared under the surface with the two hopeful heroes. She swam to Han and grabbed his shoulders. His hazel opened to her touch but he seemed unaware of her presence. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and pressed her mouth over his. Solo's eyes widened as her breath passed into his mouth. Leia released all of her air and paused for a moment, her hands still on his face and her large brown eyes gazing into his.

But her burning lungs forced her to break away and swim to the surface. Chewbacca greeted her with a frantic roar.

"They're trying to free him," she blurted out then audibly inhaled before she disappeared under the water.

Again, Leia wiggled and kicked her way to Han, and again she breathed out into his mouth. Han stared at her, unblinking as he accepted her breath. She pulled away then glanced down at the men fighting the ruthless roots. They too had to surface for air which slowed their progress. Her chest constricted. How much longer could all of them keep this up? Already one man replaced a tired would-be rescuer. Han couldn't last much….

With greater gusto, the princess kicked her feet as fast as she could, swallowed down a larger breath, and returned to Han. This time she tenderly took his face in her hands, gazed into his eyes, and pressed her lips to his. His mouth opened to hers and accepted her breath as he stared into her large brown eyes. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs, and her mind spun and drifted. Most likely her lightheadedness was due to lack of oxygen, but this time she denied her physical needs. She couldn't leave him.

Just when darkness began to close in upon her, the men freed Han's foot and were now pulling both of them both to the surface. Leia clung onto the collar of Solo's shirt and allowed the rebels to pull her to safety. The first thing she noticed was the briny air, and she tried to take in as much of it as she could without swallowing water. Several hands slipped around each of her arms and her waist, but she continued to hang onto Han. The princess inhaled and coughed until she cleared her air passage.

Next to her Han fought to recapture his own breath and calm his respiration. He reached out and touched her cheek, drawing her attention to him.

Leia blinked the water from her eyes and found Han inches away from her wearing his trademark lop-sided grin.

"You're right."

The princess' brow furrowed, "Right?"

He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "Your… freckles," Han panted. "They… don't wash…off."

She lifted her hand to her cheek and gazed into Han's eyes. Though he still wore his cocky grin, his hazel eyes were clouded with fatigue and concern.

Han looked away and ordered, "Someone…get…her a…blanket."

It was then Leia realized that her hands were trembling. "I'm fine," she insisted as she let go of his shirt and dropped her hand from her face.

Solo rolled his eyes, "You're shakin'…like a Grenion…on spice."

Leia shook her head to protest but caught sight of her shivering limbs, "I'm …not cold."

"Sure you're not," Han huffed. "Where's that blanket?"

"Here!"

Someone draped a blanket around her shoulders. She really wasn't cold, but she grabbed its coarse edges without protest.

He mischievously grinned and put his mouth close to her ear, "I _indisputably_ like _this_ look, Your Highness."

Leia's large brown eyes flew to his, and he winked. Then Han instructed Chewbacca to escort her to her cabin. Chewie's large hand wrapped around her upper arm and he gently guided her to her feet. She looked over her shoulder as she was led away and saw Han lie down on his back while others moved in around him.

"Chewie?"

He, too, watched Han drop against the deck but the tone of his growl was soft and reassuring. She couldn't understand him and didn't believe he thought Han was okay. However, Han told Chewie to escort her to her cabin, and though she hadn't known them for long, she never witnessed a time when the Wookiee refused to do what Han wanted even when they disagreed.

When they reached the stairwell the princess stopped. She favored Chewie with a smile, "I'm fine. Go be with Han."

The Wookiee warbled, patted her head, and left her to be with his best friend. Leia leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled. Han's hazel eyes stared back at her, dream-like and unwavering. She clenched her fist, remembering how the stubble on his face pricked her palms and tickled her lips. And his blue-tinged lips…

_What will we do if he gets himself killed?_ Leia touched her own lips. What will _she_ do if he gets himself killed?

When she reached the lumpy bed in her cabin, she sank into it and wrapped her arms around her legs, letting her forehead rest against her knees. Eight months and almost thirteen days ago, she didn't even know Han Solo. Had she not been captured by the Imperials, had she delivered the Death Star plans to the Alliance, had she brought General Kenobi back to Alderaan like she was supposed to, she would have never know Han Solo. Only eight months and not quite thirteen days had passed, and the thought of him dying…

Leia squeezed her legs tighter to her chest in an attempt to control her shivering. Her chest constricted, and to stave off the sensation of drowning she inhaled and exhaled with precise care, in then out in then out in then out…

Leia's head snapped up and her breath caught in her throat. The rhythmic respiration, cold in its cadence, did not belong to her. The blood in her veins chilled when the antiseptic stench of her cell on the Death Star burned her nostrils. _I'm here. I'm safe._ Was she? Leia shrunk into herself as her eyes searched the shadows.

"Hey, Your Worsh…"

The princess started and looked up to find Han standing in the stairwell. She couldn't see his face in the shadows but she could feel the awkward concern radiating from his angled posture.

"You ok?"

She released her legs and let her feet touch the cold deck. "Of course," she straightened her spine. "You?"

He took the last two steps with one stride and glanced around the small cabin, "Somethin' wrong?"

Her brow furrowed, "A…whatever that was, almost destroyed the boat and you almost drowned."

Han leaned against the doorway. "But I didn't," his eyebrows rose and fell.

Leia opened her mouth then clapped it shut, and she shook her head.

"You got Chewie all worried," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Tell him there are more important things to worry about," she looked away.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "I don't think Chewie would see it that way."

"How's his arm?"

"He's been wounded much worse than that." Han chuckled, "He can be a real baby about these things. I think he's toughened up just to impress you."

"What's the damage?" she whispered.

Han walked deeper into the small room, "It should hold together a little longer. Beck is looking for a place to stop so we can assess the damage better. "

She nodded then looked up, "And?"

His hazel eyes glazed over for the smallest of seconds but Leia noticed.

"We lost two."

"Who?"

He paused. "Selond is dead. And Roy."

She rolled her lips between her teeth and nodded again.

"We'll hafta refigure some things but nothin' you should worry about."

"Why? Because you're in charge?"

Han smirked, "Can't think of a better reason."

Leia gaped at him. With his hands still in his pockets, he approached her. Her expression softened and she swallowed down her retort. Han stopped in front of her, forcing her to lift her chin to look up at him. Leia curled her fingers around the thin mattress but she managed to keep her mien expressionless.

"You're still wearin' your wet clothes," he picked up the discarded blanket.

She raised her right eyebrow, "So are you."

"Yeah, but I ain't shiverin'," he wrapped the blanket around her. "You're gonna catch a cold."

"But I'm not cold," she whispered.

Han's eyes widened, "You have to make an argument about everything, don't ya'?"

"I'm not arguing."

"See?"

Before she could speak, Han reached out and pushed some wet locks out of her face. "We've gotta find a different place for you to sleep tonight. Well, what's left of the night, anyway."

Her brow lowered, "I'm fine here."

"You'll be more comfortable sleeping in a dry bed," he quipped.

The princess looked down at the bed where she sat sopping wet. She pressed her lips together then turned her head to him, "I don't think I'll do much sleeping anyway."

"Well," Han sighed, "you aren't stayin' in here."

"And just where do you think I'll be staying?" Leia jutted out her chin.

"Everyone's gonna stay on the upper deck," he stared into her eyes. "If the boat sinks—"

"Okay, fine," she looked away.

"Get changed…" Solo gazed at her soggy night clothes. "Do you need somethin' dry to wear tonight?"

"No thank you."

"Okay," he nodded. "Get changed and meet me in the pilot house."

"Is that all, Captain?" she tilted her head.

"No."

"Then what?"

Han's lips stretched into a wicked smile, "I think _this_ might be one of your better looks." He winked at her and disappeared before she had time to comprehend his words.

"That man!"

Leia rummaged through her knapsack, grabbed the first thing on top, and allowed her legs to carry her to the refresher. There she found herself staring at her reflection in the dirty looking glass. She paused for a moment then touched the tip of her fingers to the black smudges around her eyes. Her elaborate eye make-up was smeared over the painted freckles on her cheeks.

_I think this might be one of your better looks…_

She smoothed her fingers over her cheeks and let them trace the curve under chin then her neck. Her large brown eyes followed her fingers as they slid over her shoulder and stopped at the strap of her silk camisole. She stared at her reflection, mesmerized by the how the camisole and her thin blue shorts clung to her wet body in a way that left little room for imagination. Leia sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she studied the curvature of her body. When did her figure change from gangly angles to soft flowing curves? Was she just too busy to notice?

…_one of your better looks…_

She may not have noticed but Han Solo did. Leia ran her hand under her breast, across her abdomen, and along her hip. Her eyes flew to her face in the looking glass to find her cheeks flushed. She moved her hand back to her chest as if to slow the quickened beat of her heart. Han Solo noticed, which meant he looked.

_I'd recognize you._

Leia slowly inhaled and exhaled, unsure of how to feel. No one else paid much mind to her physical appearance. No one else leered at her or made suggestive comments, or verbally appreciated her figure. But no one else would dare to speak or look at her the way Han Solo did. Of course, Han Solo seemed to go out of his way to push her buttons, so maybe he was just pushing her buttons. She frowned at herself. At least he made her feel less invisible.

"Hey, Your Worship!"

Leia cringed at the moniker he gave her, "What!"

"Get your royal-than-thou arse up here!"

Her large brown eyes widened and retracted, "I'll get up there when I'm damn well ready!"

"Fine!"

Leia sighed and shook her head.

"Damn well ready better be damn well soon!"

She bristled and returned to dressing, "That man."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4:

"The water's too shallow for sea monsters, Your Grandness," Han Solo stood on the middle of the wooden plank that stretched between the boat and the land.

The princess warily looked down at the water then at Han. She lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her chest, "I know that."

Han's grin morphed into a smirk, "Then what are ya' waiting for?" His brow lifted, "Expecting me to come an' carry you across?"

Her brow raised and her lips pursed, "So you can throw me into the water?"

His eyes widened and he used both hands to point at himself, "Me? I'd never do that."

"Yeah, I believe that," she rolled her eyes and caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she surveyed the thick rope tied to a round tree trunk that jutted out of the soft earth. Though the knot looked secure, the boat still swayed with the soft waves of the river.

"I'm telling you," Solo sighed. "It's perfectly safe. See?"

Han jumped up and down and up…

"Han!" Leia's white-knuckled fingers tightened around the railing as she dared to lean over it.

Han's head then shoulders popped out of the water and he impishly grinned up at her.

"Don't think she'll fall for that one again, Solo," Harding shouted out as he passed by.  
"We have anymore planks?"

"Over here," Grif called out.

The princess stared at Han who now stood shoulder deep in the murky purple water. Her mouth formed a silent 'O' as her cheeks heated. "I can't believe you!"

"What? You think I did that on purpose?"

Leia narrowed her eyes, "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Of course not!" Han huffed as he waded toward the riverbank. "You're always thinkin' the worse of me."

"Maybe because you're always at your worse around me," she clenched her teeth together, pushed herself off of the railing, and stormed away.

Leia stalked across the deck, keeping her brown eyes focused on the ground until she found herself alone and out of sight. She leaned against the wall and pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. The morning air felt heavy and awkward in her nostrils and mouth as it filled her lungs, weighing her down. Her heart bumped against her sternum, echoing hollow in her ears as her thoughts drifted from Han to that of her cousins swimming in Lake Aldera. And what came with her cousins were their hands tugging her hair and legs, pulling her under the cold lake water while she tried to kick herself free. Their fat grubby hands grabbed and released, their malicious toothy smiles shone crystal clear, and their taunting laughter escaped through their mouths and noses in large bubbles.

"Hey," Han softly called from behind her.

The princess jumped and her eyes popped open.

"You okay?"

Her chest rose and fell in silence. _Was she okay?_ Why did everyone ask her this idiotic question? She hadn't been okay since she was taken prisoner on the Death Star.

"Leia?"

Leia closed her eyes as the syllables of her name floated over her. _Leia_…Her name in his mouth, all mocking absent from his tone, penetrated her skin and caressed her ears. Her knees weakened a touch as her emotions tangled her stomach into knots.

"Look at me, will ya'?"

She reluctantly turned around to find Han still dripping wet from his impromptu swim. He put his hands on his waist and rocked from his toes to his heels, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me!" her voice harsher than she meant it to be.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure!" she snapped again.

Han pushed his hand through his hair and raised his eyebrows, "You don't _sound_ like you sure."

Leia opened her mouth and gaped at him for a moment. She then shook her head and pushed passed him, "There's work to be done and you're fooling around as usual."

"I didn't do it on purpose, Your Worship!" Solo called after her.

The princess clenched her fists and picked up her pace.

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Princess Leia placed a hand on her hip and arched her back as she stole a quick glance at Han. He rested his foot on a fallen log and pulled at his chin. His brow was furrowed and he nodded every so often as Harding traced lines on the flimsy he held. Han then dropped his foot to the ground and ran a hand through his hair. He looked up in her direction, lips tense and eyes steady. She froze. The way he stared at her… something wasn't right.

Leia frowned, pushed some errant strands of hair behind her ear, and turned her attention to the small crate in front of her. With a stifled grunt she lifted it, resting most of the crate's weight on her hipbone. The princess grimaced as she stalked towards the other crates. She should have insisted on being part of the tactical planning team, but considering Han didn't even want her to take part in this mission, insisting on anything wouldn't have played out in her favor. Still, not having a say in the planning was driving her crazy.

"I'll take that, Your Highness," a portly rebel with a wide, toothy smile offered his hands out.

"Thank you, Grif, but I can do it."

"But—"

Leia twisted away from Grif and quickened her paced before he could take it from her. She maneuvered her way passed a few other rebels then dropped the crate next to another.

"This should be the last of the medical supplies." She placed her hand in the small of her back and arched out the kink. "I don't think those two hover pallets will be enough to carry all this."

"We might be able to get most of the medical supplies in the canvas bags," Kindler said, "but we might have to leave some of the weapons crates here. Hide them or somethin'."

Leia nodded as her large brown eyes grazed over her comrades, searching for a certain smuggler. Han had disappeared into the canvas tent that she had helped erect. She sighed as she knelt down beside Kindler and helped him pry off the lid. The man began to empty the contents of the crate, dropping them in various piles. She reached into the box—

The muscles in Leia's thighs rippled and a weight pressed heavy upon her chest as she stared at the individually wrapped hypodermic needles. Small beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip and her skin rose in bumps. She pulled back her hand but couldn't tear her eyes from the neatly packaged needles.

"Hey, Your Worship!"

Leia slowly raised her eyes. The sunlight was too bright, casting halos around everything.

"Why don't ya' go collect some firewood?"

"What?" she blinked up at his silhouette.

"Go find us somethin' good to burn," Han slowed his words.

She rose to her feet, hoping no one would notice her shaking knees, "Why me?"

"Cos according to Luke, you're the best," he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and all eyes fell onto him and the princess.

"The best?"

"At building campfires," Han smirked. "He wouldn't stop ravin' about your fire making talents. Now I doubt someone of your upbringing would even _know_ how to light a match."

The princess' mouth opened, "What?"

"Now Luke, being a good friend of mine, I'm apt to believe him, well at least give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he witnessed first-hand your fire building talents."

Leia gaped at Solo, "I've never—"

"Then again, Luke's been known to exaggerate. All that talk of bombing womprats," he rolled his eyes and walked away. "Either way, we need firewood so get to it!"

The princess watched Han for a moment then looked down at the packaged hypodermic needles. She carefully inhaled as she rubbed her hands against her skirt.

"Guess I should…" she backed away from the open crate and forced a smile for the Kindler.

Kindler just gaped at her.

Leia shrugged her shoulders and turned around. She walked toward the wooded area that encircled their camp with her chin held high doing her best to ignore the dumbfounded stares of her colleagues. Once she reached the edge of the woods, her large brown eyes scanned the area. She then glanced at Han over her shoulder. He had moved closer to the woods and was involved in a seemingly tense conversation with Grif and a few other rebels. When she turned away, she could feel his eyes on her. She closed her own, slowly inhaled, and focused on her task.

Leia lifted her skirt and began loading twigs and sticks in the basket-like center of the skirt. Soon her firewood collecting consumed her thoughts, and all that remained in her head were sticks and twigs and branches. The mindless task soothed her anxiety, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. The weight in her chest lifted and her legs were steady. She smiled to herself. Who would have thought a tedious task would be so relaxing.

Then a swift wind blew through the trees, rattling the leaves. Leia stiffened and held her breath as the wind wheezed its way through the woods. Not whistling like the breezes in Aldera but wheezing. There was a clear cadence to the wheezing, steady and ominous like the mechanical breathing that haunted her dreams. But it couldn't be. She had to be imagining it.

"Your Glorified Highnessness," Han had his hands on his hips. "Haven't you collected enough wood yet?"

With wide large eyes she whispered, "Do you hear that?"

Han furrowed his brow, pressed his lips together, and took a moment to listen, "Yeah, it's the wind."

Leia blinked and straightened her spine, "I know that."

He opened his mouth but quickly closed it. He stepped closer to her to examine the pile of wood in her skirt, "Yep, looks like you have enough wood there."

"Whoa!" he took a step back, "now I understand your odd taste in clothes."

"My odd taste of clothes?"

"What you normally wear," he shrugged then grinned at her. "If you did all your rebel duties wearing outfits that showed off your legs, no one would get any work done."

Leia rolled her eyes and bit back a smile, "Not everyone is as single-minded as you."

His grin stretched wider, "You'd be surprised. I'll take that for you."

Before she could object, Han scooped up the larger branches from her skirt and started toward the camp.

Still carrying the smaller sticks and twigs in the hollow of her skirt, Leia's trotted to catch up to him, "I don't need your help!"

"Never said you did," he continued on without looking at her.

"Then why did you take it from me?"

Han stopped and looked down at her, "I was just bein' nice."

"You? Nice?" Leia scoffed.

"Yeah, I can be nice when the occasion arises," he huffed. "What? Surprised?"

Leia frowned at him, "Yes, I am."

"That's cos you make alotta assumptions about me," Han stared into her eyes, "when you really know nothin' about the kinda man I am."

For a moment she held his gaze then nodded her head and let her eyes drift from him, "I suppose you're right."

Han's lips slid into a wide lop-sided grin, "I usually am." He winked at her then started off toward camp.

Leia's large brown eyes scanned the darkening sky overhead. How long was she collecting wood? She shook her head and jogged to catch up with Han. He slowed his pace as she approached to allow her to fall in step with him. Her eyes slid to Han. His posture and gait were relaxed, easy-flowing, but his jaw was tight and his hazel eyes alert. He carried the pile of wood mostly in his left hand, leaving his right to hover over his blaster. Leia rolled her lips between her teeth and stared at the ground. She knew enough about him to be worried, but she wasn't. She felt…safe.

"Han?" her voice was tiny.

"Yeah, Leia?"

"I don't know anything about building a campfire."

"I know."

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Leia gazed at the flickering flame in the glass lantern as it danced with the light breeze. The brilliant yellow light threw shadows upon the canvas walls of the tent, bending the hard edges of the crates across from her. She tipped her head to the side. Such a small thing that flame was, just one soft breath and it would no longer exist. _Like Alderaan…_ The flame dipped down until it was almost nothing and then popped up larger than before. Leia swallowed in a futile attempt to clear the foul taste in the back of her throat. Bitter, metallic, acidic, the taste of her guilt and anguish. The taste of Darth Vader's hand clamped on her shoulder and of Governor Tarkin's hand as he squeezed her chin. The taste of losing something she could never have back.

The princess inhaled as deep as she could before shifting her legs and adjusting her knapsack under her head. The lantern, with its twisting flame, didn't offer a lot of light, only enough to see what obstacles might lay in her path. And still she bumped into things. Her companions weren't faring so well with their lanterns either. Grif elbowed one by accident and that tiny little flame grew into a blaze big enough to cause a bit of panic and concern. Han calmly poured a bowl of water on the fire, putting it out before harshly warning the team to be more careful.

The princess ran her finger along the edge of her data pad. Han Solo wasn't behaving so…so Han-Solo-ish. He still called her names and teased her. He fooled around and joked with the team, and he still took risks that made her chest tighten, but he was acting peculiarly on this mission. He gave orders to the team with an air of authority she had never seen before. He conferred with the team with no ego at all. She could see the weight of this mission heavy in his dark hazel eyes like he wasn't so certain of the outcome.

_You make alotta assumptions about me when you really know nothin' about the kinda man I am. _

Leia rested her forearms against her makeshift bed and leaned forward. The flap of the tent opening swayed gently in the wind, giving her a partial view outside. Han reclined in a canvas chair as he stared at the data pad resting on his lap. The crackling fire illuminated his face, softening his furrowed brow and pulled-down mouth. Leia pressed her front teeth into her lower lip. Whatever he was puzzling over couldn't be good.

The princess sighed, readjusted her own data pad, and tried to read what was on the screen. The voices that soon started to gather outside her tent, however, tugged at her attention. They were enjoying themselves—not as carefree as they were on the boat—but still savoring the last moments before the mission truly began. Words layered upon words, good-natured needling, and scattered laughter floated through the tent walls. Han's chuckles, though restrained, loosened the knots in her stomach and tickled her ears before seeping into her smile.

"Hey, Your Highnessness! Come and join us!"

Leia bristled. Why did he always have to ruin the moments when she thought he was an okay guy? She dropped her head down on her knapsack and held her breath.

"Your Glorifulness."

The princess snapped her eyes shut and wished him away. His heart may have been in the right place but she was too tired to paste a polite smile on her face and pretend not to notice the discomfort her presence inspired in the others. All she wanted to do was read her data pad until she was tired enough to drift to sleep.

"Hey…"

Leia focused on the rhythm of her respiration as the tent flap rustled. The course gravel scattered in the grass crackled with each step he took until he stopped inches from her makeshift bed. She could feel his presence like a rock jutting out of a river, and his eyes…

His fingers brushed against hers as Han removed the data pad from her loose grip. The pad chimed off before he slipped it under her hand. The glass containing the flame chinked against its base as it was lifted and replaced. But he didn't leave like she expected him to do. Instead he remained where he was, close to her, so close that she could feel the heat rising off his legs. And she had to remind herself to keep breathing. In and out, in and out…

The back of his hand touched her temple then smoothed over her cheek. Her skin rose in bumps as he repeated the gesture. Han then pulled the coarse blanket over her body until it covered her up to her shoulders. His hand was there again stroking her hair one, two, three times before it stopped. He sighed loudly, and Leia's breath caught in her throat. The gravel and grass under his feet crunched as he retreated, leaving a cold space where he had stood. The tent flap slapped against the side of the tent wall and Han softly warned their companions to keep their voices at a decent volume.

Leia touched the place on her cheek where Han had touched. The gentle pressure and warmth of his skin against hers, it was the same gesture her father made when he comforted her after a nightmare. Han's hand was callused, scratchy but not at all unpleasant. Her hand then followed the motions Han's hand had made when he stroked her hair before she grabbed the edge of the blanket that he covered her with. Tears escaped from her closed eyelids and her mouth opened to swallow gulps of air. No one had touched her since the Death Star. There were the claps on the back, the reserved embraces of condolence, victorious hugs. They proclaimed her a hero, made her the symbol of all the Rebellion was fighting for, and treated her like an idol. She didn't feel like any of those things. She just felt invisible, unreal.

But Han Solo, loud-mouthed, cocky, obnoxious Han Solo, had done something no one else dared to do. He touched her in a way that confirmed she was real. That she was still Leia. Her tears fell uncontrollably now, and she used the edge of the blanket to wipe them away. She twisted her head and silently screamed into her knapsack until all of the air in her lungs was used up. Though she feared someone would find her in this state of disarray, she found that she couldn't stop crying. She cried for Alderaan and her father. She cried for the crew of the Tantive IV and General Kenobi, for Luke. But mostly she cried for herself.

As her sobs simmered down to hiccups and slow tears, Leia realized that this was the first time she truly mourned all that she lost. Fatigue took over and she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5:

After hiding the weapons and supplies that didn't fit on the hover pallets or canvas bags and leaving Grif and Kindler behind to guard the stash, the rest of the rebels made their way to the small dock where they were to meet their contact.

Han Solo used his monocular to survey the dock. Their contact was expecting them to arrive by boat a few hours earlier, but there was no way they could inform the contact of the change in plans.

He replaced the monocular on his belt and turned to the group, "Stay here. I'll go make contact."

"Shouldn't you have some back up?" Leia asked.

"I've got Chewie," Han nodded at his best friend.

The princess looked to the Wookiee who held his bow caster ready for action.

"Everyone understand that you're to stay put until I give the signal?" Solo addressed the group but kept his hazel eyes locked on the princess.

"Why are you looking at me?" Leia indignantly asked.

"Cos you're the one who has the most trouble followin' orders, Your Worshipfulness," Han leaned forward and looked down at her.

"Unlike you, Captain, I know how to take orders," she narrowed her large brown eyes on him.

"Are you sure about that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Cos you ignored my orders on the boat when I told you to get to safety."

"If I followed your stupid order then, you'd be dead," she raised her eyebrow right back at him.

"It only shows you can't follow orders."

"I won't follow ridiculous orders," she crossed her arms over her chest. "You needed my help fighting off that creature."

"Do you think my order for you to stay right here is a ridiculous order?"

Leia lower lip pressed into her upper lip before she answered, "No."

"Fine," Han straightened his posture and smiled smugly down at her. "Then we don't have a problem."

"Good!"

"Great!"

"Don't you have a contact to meet?" she reminded him.

Han pointed a finger at her, "Stay here." Then he trekked into the woods toward the dock.

Leia lifted her monocular to her eyes, "Be ready if anything happens."

"But Solo said to stay here," Harding pointed out. "You agreed his order wasn't ridiculous."

"Only if nothing goes wrong."

Chewbacca garruffed.

"I have no doubt you can handle it, Chewie," Leia continued to look through her monocular, "but you know how things can go when Han's involved."

Chewie chuckled as the rest of the group lifted their monoculars to their eyes.

Leia bit her lip as she watched Han walk toward a group of three weathered men smoking death sticks as if he didn't have a care in the world. The center one straightened his spine as Han approached. Han stepped to the side and held out his hands. She smiled. That put the man right in Chewie's sight. Still, Chewie couldn't possibly take out the other two in time if things went sour, could he? Her heart rose to her throat and she tried to swallow it down to no avail. Why did he have to put himself in danger like this?

Han rested his hands on his belt, a casual posture, but Leia knew he was ready to draw his blaster at any second. If only she could hear what they were saying.

"Chewie…?"

Chewbacca growled.

Why did she agree to let Han go alone? Did she have a choice? After all, it was _his_ mission. She could have protested more. Would that have made a difference? Why did he always have to be such a reckless idiot? She bristled at the lop-sided grin Han wore. Maybe Han was mesmerizing the men with his charm. She's seen it work on the younger rebels who idolized him and on more than a few women. More than more than a few, she bristled again. The two other men stepped toward Han and Leia's breath snagged in her throat. Then the tallest one shook hands with him and the other two followed suit. Han looked over his shoulder and gave the signal.

Leia exhaled loudly, catching the attention of her companions. She muttered an Alderaanian curse, which raised a few eyebrows, then started toward the dock. Chewie laughed and ordered the others to bring their cargo.

"Chewie, Harding, Alan, Port," Han waved a hand at his team, "this is Marbo, Sam, and Elt."

Marbo, Sam, and Elt greeted the rebels but their eyes remained glued to the Princess.

"Oh, and that's Leia," Han intentionally said as an afterthought.

Leia shot Han a look but smiled at the men.

"Leia?" Elt asked. "As in Princess Leia Organa?"

The princess fought to keep her smile in place.

"Yep, Her High and Glorified Mightiness herself," Han bowed as he held out a hand to her.

She rolled her eyes, "It's just Leia. Please ignore him."

"We're…we're sorry about your loss," Marbo took off his hat and looked down at his feet.

"It was all of our losses," she said, "and another reason this Empire must fall."

They all nodded in agreement.

"As I was tellin' Marbo," Han scratched the back of his head, "We were forced to leave the rest of the cargo hidden in the woods."

"Most unfortunate," Sam cut in.

"Like I said, nothin' we could do about it," Han forcefully said. "So Marbo's gonna send some men with you all to retrieve it. Chewie, Sam has a speeder you can take back to the _Falcon_. Move 'er to the designated spot and wait for us. Harding and me will go into the city to meet with Rugger."

Leia's large brown eyes flicked between Marbo and Han, "Isn't he supposed to be at the base?"

"Yeah, well, there was a change in plan, Your Highness," Marbo shrugged.

"The tide is changing and we have to be ready," Sam said.

"For what?"

"That's what Harding and me are gonna discuss with Rugger." Han ran his bottom lip between his teeth. "So everybody knows their part. Let's get moving."

Han going to the city without Chewie? A knot of panic sizzled in her stomach and she felt as if she was back standing on the rickety boat. He couldn't leave her—

Leia rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. What did she mean, _he couldn't leave her_? He has a job to do and he must do it. She has a job and she must do it. She was here on a mission led by Han Solo under his orders, and he had every right to do the ordering. What was she so afraid of?

_What if he gets himself killed?_

Was that what she feared? He survived the Death Star. He just couldn't die on some backwater planet. Leia swallowed down the thought of it being anything more.

"Captain," she called out. "Can I have a word with you?"

Han's hazel eyes widened and retracted as he stalked over to the princess, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her a few feet away from the group as everyone gaped.

"You're gonna go with the rest of them and get the rest of the cargo and that's final."

"I don't think so."

"Whaddya mean you don't think so?" Han Solo's voice rose in volume, catching the interests of the nearby rebels.

"Exactly that," the princess lifted her chin. "I. Don't. Think. So."

Han clamped his teeth together, "If I remember right, _I'm_ the one in charge here."

"I never said you weren't."

"Then why are you questioning my authority?"

"I didn't question your authority. I haven't said a thing," she shifted her weight onto her left hip, her words dripping with sarcasm. "You're still the man in charge!"

"Then that means you gotta do what I tell ya," he leaned toward her, pushing his smug smile in her face.

Leia quipped, "I win."

"What?" Han pulled back. "Won what?"

Her eyebrow arched, "The bet."

"What bet?" Solo's anger seeped into his tone and he looked around. "Who made a bet and what was it?"

The rebels within earshot shook their heads, shrugged, and looked at each other. Leia shifted her weight again and rested a hand on her hip.

"Luke," she huffed. "I told him that leading this mission would inflate your ego—more so than it already is. Luke disagreed with me so we made a bet." Leia paused as her lips stretched into a triumphant smile, "And I won."

"Won—" Han paced in front of her before abruptly coming to a stop. "First of all, my ego ain't inflated in the least."

"Maybe because it couldn't get any bigger." She snarked. "I still win."

"How?" He shook his head, "Ne'er mind. Secondly, you're the one actin' all royal-like and demanding things."

"I demanded nothing. You're just flaunting your authority."

"No I'm not, Your High and Mightiness," Han wagged a finger at her. "I'm doin' my job and just cos you don't like my decision—"

Chewie approached the arguing couple and garbled. Both Han and Leia snapped their heads in his direction, "Stay out of it!"

The Wookie mumbled under his breath as he walked away.

"Your decision is idiotic, but that's no surprise," she raised her eyebrows.

Han raised both of his eyebrows, "Idiotic?"

She blinked, "That's what I said."

He clenched his teeth, "How so?"

Leia inhaled and straightened her spine, "Since I was thirteen I accompanied my father—" her lungs deflated and her eyes slipped far away for the briefest of seconds. "I have more experience in this kind of thing than anyone here, including you."

Han remained silent, and Leia could feel the heat rising from her neck and settling in her cheeks. _Say something…_

"We'll be walkin' into a city crawlin' with Imps. And you don't have diplomatic immunity to fall back on." He planted his fists on his hips, "What if Vader's there?"

The princess' unwavering eyes stared into his, and she lifted her chin ever so slightly, "So what if he is?"

Han's voice softened, "It just ain't safe."

"Nowhere is safe," she whispered.

"Leia…"

"You know I'm the best choice."

Han ran his hand through his hair, "Fine."

Han nodded and walked over to the group of rebels, "The princess will be accompanying me. Harding, you're in charge of group."

Leia watched Han dole out the new orders for a moment then exhaled. _What if Vader's there? _Her legs felt shaky and her chest was tight. She locked her knees. The mission had to be carried out despite the Dark Lord's whereabouts. She couldn't let—no, she wouldn't let her fear of Darth Vader and anything Imperial interfere with her work in the rebellion.

But that wasn't really the case at all. It was her fear that drove her to persuade Han give in to her. It wouldn't be safe but Han would be there, and though perplexing, she felt more secure with Han than anyone else at the moment. Maybe because he got her off the Death Star.

"Havin' second thoughts?"

Leia gave a little start, "Of course not, Captain."

Solo looked at her for a moment then gathered his stuff. Leia watched him as he slung the packs over his shoulders. "They have transportation for us at the base."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It wasn't long until they reached the base and Han and Leia were perched upon an equine on their way to the city of Ulna, a city under control of Empire. Han held the reigns as Leia sat behind him with her arms loosely around his waist. Although she couldn't see his face, she could feel his irritation in his ridge posture and tense muscles. She didn't mind so much that he was angry with her. It was rare when they weren't fighting and someone was always storming away. He couldn't storm away now and she was certain that only fueled his anger. So his anger was nothing new. But Han hadn't uttered a single word to her, or at her, since they began their journey. She bit her lip as she stared at his back. His silence cut her deeper than any words he ever said to her, and she felt so alone. How much longer could he keep this up?

More than two standard hours had passed. How much longer could she take it?

Leia swallowed, cleared her throat and raised her voice, "We're making good time."

"Uh-huh."

"We should make it before the sun sets."

"Maybe."

"We should be in and out of the city in no time," she cringed at her lame words.

"If Rugger isn't plannin' what I think he's plannin'."

She fell silent. Their contact already changed the plan and things hadn't been working out in their favor since they stepped on to that boat. And Han didn't want to be in the city longer than they had to be. Both of them carried a bounty on their heads, and though Leia's make up had been touched up and refined, she knew he still worried about her being recognized. Leia was actually surprised that he caved in and let her join him. She would ask him why but thought better of it.

Han's head tipped up and Leia looked to the sky. Only a moment ago the sky was clear, even a little too bright. Now dark gray clouds, angry and sharp, settled over them. They swirled around as the rain began to fall.

"No one looked into the weather report before we started this mission?" Leia pulled the hood of her cape over her head.

"I'm surprised you didn't already look that up. You're always so prepared and anal about these missions," Han took the hat hanging from the horn of the saddle and placed it on his head with one hand.

"I would have been if I was the _man_ in charge, Captain."

"Man in charge," Han mutter under his breath. He raised his voice, rested one hand on his hip and, looked over his shoulder. "If you were in charge of this mission, you'd know there is no weather report. Nothin's predicable here."

Leia pulled a face then sighed, "Nothing's ever predicable when you're around."

Han snorted.

Leia sighed, "Maybe it won't get worse."

Larger drops of rain began to fall, and she grimaced.

"Maybe you should keep your mouth shut before you make it worse," Han sniped.

"My comment did not cause the rain to get worse!"

The sky cracked and equine hesitated.

"Just great."

"We'll be fine if we keep moving," Leia reasoned.

"With all that education you got, no one ever taught you about storm safety?" Han quipped.

"Of course," Leia glared at him. "Did you see any lightning?"

He frowned, "No."

"Then the storm is far off. We should continue until we see lightning."

Leia lifted her chin and painted the most confident expression possible on her face. She wasn't comfortable traveling in a thunderstorm, but she didn't want to point out to Han that there was no place around them that made for good shelter. And they were surrounded by trees. Their best strategy was to continue on and hope to find some shelter before the storm got any worse.

"Fine," Han agreed and gave the equine a gentle kick.

As they traveled on, the rain pelted them harder and at an increasingly faster pace, but the trees were getting denser and thicker, easing the punishment the rain doled out. Streaks of lightning split the sky and the thunder exploded as the electrical charges moved ever closer. Leia tightened her hold on Han. She could see the tension in His shoulders through his wet shirt, and she tried to calm her nerves down. For this was just a thunderstorm like any other thunderstorm. There were no Imperials, or Death Stars, or Sith Lords. So then why was Han so tense?

"Ow!" She stopped and examined her shoulder before noticing other white objects falling around them, "Hail! We can't stay out here!"

"You think?" Han pointed, "There."

Han slid off the equine then helped the princess. Leia used her arm to protect her head and squinted but couldn't see what Han was excited about. Han took the lead of the equine in one hand and her hand in the other and led them through a few scraggly trees. As they neared their destination, he pulled her next to him, shielding her with half of his body and arm. They stopped in front of a hollowed out tree trunk that seemed barely big enough for the two of them. Han pulled out a torch and examined the insides.

"No room for equines," he frowned. "Sorry about that ol' pal." He patted the equine.

Han crawled into the trunk first then ushered Leia in so that she was sitting between his legs with her back to his chest. Leia's muscles stiffened as he moved around her in such a casual way. She sat as straight as she could so that she wasn't leaning against him, and she hugged her knees to her chest so that her legs wouldn't brush up against his. He had never been this familiar with her. Well, no one had ever been this familiar with her. No one would dare. No one but Han Solo, that is. And his proximity inspired a plethora of feelings that she didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"You cold?"

"No."

"You're shakin'."

Leia looked down at her hands and noticed the slight tremble. Why did he have this effect on her? "Maybe I am just a little. But I'm okay."

"Here," Han placed a hand on her waist and pulled her toward him until her back was flush against his chest. He then rested his elbows on his knees, allowing his hands to hang over his shins.

Leia's head swam, her lips tingled, and her cheeks burned. Her stomach twisted and tangled with indignation, fear, and a tickle that she had never experienced before. She should have never allowed him to touch her like this. He always made her feel off-kilter, especially when he got close to her. And he was always invading her personal space. This was almost unbearable.

But both of them needed shelter from the hail. She _had_ to let him touch her because the space was too small. And was it really uncomfortable? She kind of liked the tingling, and the fear of being close to him wasn't the same as her fear of Darth Vader. No, this fear incited giddiness within her chest and what if's in her head, what if's that couldn't be named but hung there waiting to be discovered.

The princess' large brown eyes followed the line of Solo's long leg to the calluses on his right hand. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his breath, the cadence of his heart softly beating against her back.

_Nowhere is safe._

The princess bit down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. That wasn't true.

_Here is safe._

Outside their shelter the woods lit up like a Rodian canon and the sky cracked and grumbled with anger. The storm finally caught up with them and now howled and glowed and crashed endlessly. Han wrapped his hand around her waist, and Leia sucked in a breath. His fingers were warm against her soaked dress, and it was then she realized that she was indeed cold. She looked down at his hand and watched his fingers and arm tighten against her with every bolt of lightning and clap of thunder.

She gently placed her hand over his, a bold move on her part, but it felt right, and in such circumstances, it seemed the proper thing to do.

"Can I ask you a question?" she cringed when her voice cracked.

"I dunno. Depends on what the question is."

Leia licked her lips and tried to ignore his close proximity, "What kind of questions will you answer?"

"Dunno until you ask," his hand jerked her closer to him as a bolt of lightning struck a tree not too far from where they were.

So…" she steadied her voice, "How long have you been afraid of thunderstorms?"

At first he said nothing, and Leia's face fell. Stupid question, too personal. Nobody liked to talk about their fears. Why did she have to ask that?

Another bout of lightning and thunder hit and Han pulled her even closer to him, "Since I was around eight or so."

Leia held her breath, waiting…

"Me an' my friend, Fauq, were playin' out in the Lougoon Dunes during a storm. We knew it was dangerous, but we dared each other to see who could stay out there the longest," Han sighed. "Fauq won." He paused before inhaling, "Just as he was headed back to the dugout, he was struck by lightning. Died on the spot."

"I'm sorry," the princess whispered.

They sat in silence as the storm slowly began to move on. Leia's large brown eyes dropped to her hand over his. He didn't remove it nor did he loosen his grip. He held her firm against him, no uncertainty in his touch, no awkwardness or formality. He was warm and sturdy and soft, and she hoped the rain would fall forever, well, at least long enough for all her fears to go away.

"So why are ya' afraid of water?" Han asked as if he knew her thoughts. "And don't give me any crap about river monsters cos I saw the way you looked at the water the moment you stepped foot on that boat."

"I'm not…" she started but then stopped. "When I was a kid…"

"How old?"

"Hmm, I think I was five or six. My cousins and I would go swimming at Lake Aldera," Leia tilted her head back to try to see Han's face. "They were older than me, between nine and twelve, so naturally they resented my company." A touch of anger colored her matter-of-fact tone, "The feeling was mutual but we were forced together by meddling aunts."

"So your cousins would pick on you?"

"More than just that," she unconsciously rubbed her index finger over his hand. "It got physical sometimes, but I fought back."

"I bet you did."

Leia could feel Han's grin. She smiled and continued, "I held my own, but when they all gained up on me…" her smile faded. "They would push me into the lake. Then they'd all jumped in after me and pull me under every time I tried to surface. They grabbed my arms, my legs, my hair... any part of me they could get a hold of. I'd be so close to reaching the surface…"

The princess shook her head and took a breath, "They did a lot of things like that when they were forced to take me along on their adventures, but the lake thing was the worse."

"Didn't you tell anyone? You were just a little kid."

Leia shrugged, "Tell who? My father was too busy to bother with such trivial matters."

"I wouldn't call that trivial," Han gave her a squeeze.

"I don't know, there wasn't anyone to tell. My cousins had a way of becoming angelic around people, and my aunts saw me as the troublemaker so no one would believe me." She stared at the rain, "It eventually stopped."

"Why?"

"The last time they held me down too long and I drowned," Leia sighed. "One of them managed to revive me, and they made me swear not to tell."

The pair remained silent for a moment, and Leia reflected on her openness as she watched the large raindrops slow. Who was the last person she had shared something that personal? She told things to Luke but nothing more than what it was like growing up in a palace and the diverse experiences she had had in various climates. None of their conversations got any deeper than that.

"So, you jumpin' into the river and savin' me," Han gave her hair a gentle tug with his free hand, "that was somethin' special."

The princess pulled her hair out of his hand, "It wasn't easy."

"But you did it."

"Yes," she turned around to look at him. "Why are you smiling all goofy like that?"

"You must like me."

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, "It stopped raining. Let's get going." She moved out of the tree trunk. Han's smile morphed into a smug grin as he followed her out of the trunk.

"Look, I would have done it for anyone," she snapped and turned away. Would she have done if for anyone? _Could_ she have done it for anyone?

"Maybe," Han's grin doubled in size, "but you did it for me."

"So?"

"That means you like me."

Leia marched to the equine, "This is _your_ mission, Captain. I couldn't let anything happen to you."

The equine bucked and whinnied as it tried to escape its tether.

"AGH!"

Leia's head whipped around. "No," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6:

Princess Leia's large brown eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for half a second before she leaped into action. She raced toward Han who was pinned down by a scraggly-haired beast with canines the size of her forearm.

"Run, Leia!" Han yelled through his clenched teeth as he wrestled the beast, fighting with all his strength to keep the dagger-like fangs away from his neck.

Leia stopped two feet away from Han and the determined animal when she realized her blaster was in her knapsack on the equine. She turned to the equine but stopped firmly in her tracks as another beast attacked the equine and began feasting on it. She grimaced and looked around. She then sprinted to a broken log nearby. She heaved the log over her shoulder and closed the gap between her, Han, and the thrashing beast. Using every ounce of strength she had, she swung the log, striking the beast in the head and knocking it off of Han.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

Leia cringed. What was she doing? The beast shook its head and stumbled to its feet. She eyed the log. It was now too far out of her reached (why did she let it go?) and obviously impotent against that beast.

"Get outa here, Your Worship!" Han yelled as the beast jumped on top of him, pinning his arms down.

Leia searched the ground and found a large rock. She narrowed her eyes on her target and threw the rock with all her might. The rock sailed through the sky and slammed into one of the beast's fangs, cracking the impressive tooth. The animal howled and ran its tongue along its broken fang then looked between Leia and Han.

"Over here!" she yelled. "Come get me!"

"Leia, GET OUTA HERE!"

The beast expelled a low guttural growl that vibrated its way through Leia's blood. She glanced at Han who was fighting to clear his blaster from his holster. Her eyes returned to the beast. It climbed off Han and started toward her but abruptly stopped. Han was wounded which made him an easier target, and from the way the beast eyed Han, she was sure it was thinking the same thing. There would be no distracting that creature away from the smuggler now. The beast crouched down.

A dangerous fire lit up her eyes as she slipped her hand under her skirt and leapt on top of Han. Just as the beast took to the air, she pulled out the knife strapped to her leg and stabbed it in its carotid artery. The wounded animal howled as it stumbled away from them, falling hard as it bled out. Han managed to free his blaster and shot the other beast as it started charging toward them. The large animal dropped to the ground.

Only when the beast expelled its last breath did Leia's muscles relaxed.

"That was unexpected."

"Yeah," she nodded her head slowly before looking at Han. She found him propped up on his elbows and gazing at her with the most peculiar smile. Her cheeks warmed under his attention but she didn't move off of his lap.

"You're pretty strong for someone so small."

The princess brow pinched at the left-handed compliment, "I'm not that small."

The right corner of his mouth lifted, "You're not that big." He patted her on the head, "That was impressive."

"You're bleeding," Leia's anger dissolved into concern as she examined Han's shoulder for the first time.

"It's just a scratch."

"From the way it's bleeding, it's more than a scratch," she shook her head. "Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"Take. Off. Your. Shirt," she slowly commanded.

"Just wanted to make sure I heard you right," he grinned.

Leia rolled her eyes, "Just do it or I'll let you bleed to death."

"Hold your equines, Sweetheart," his hazel eyes twinkled, "I just wanted to be sure I heard you right."

"You're impossible," she grumbled as she helped him with his shirt.

"See? Just a scratch."

"It should be stitched up."

"Nah, bacta gel will be enough."

"If it's also stitched," she asserted.

Leia started to climb to her feet, but Han caught her hand, "You saved my life twice now. You most definitely like me."

"You're delusional!"

"I don't know…" he drawled.

"I would've done it for anyone."

"But you did it for me. Twice."

Han's chuckle followed Leia as she stalked over to the fallen beast, retrieved her knife, and stormed over to the dead equine. She clenched her teeth, knelt down next to the saddle bags and searched the contents of the bag. Her anger boiled up inside her but she didn't know why she was so angry. Was it because the beast that almost killed Han? Was it Han himself, how he could be so...so calm and light-hearted after what just happened? Why was she the only one worked up and…and what? She glanced over her shoulder at Han who had pulled himself over to a tree and was leaning against the trunk.

_I have to get control of my fears,_ she admonished herself. If only she could be more like Han Solo, joking after perilous situations, whooping after storm troopers, confident to the point of arrogance, fearless in the face of danger. If only…

Eight months, fourteen days, and how many hours? Half a day, maybe? Eight months and fourteen and a half days since Alderaan, since first laying eyes on Han Solo who was nothing like anyone she knew. She would think after surviving Vader's torture, the destruction of her home planet, and the Battle of Yavin she would be a stronger person, someone who was fearless in the face of danger like Han. But all she felt inside was like a scared little girl, weak and easily shaken. How long could she hide her true self from the world? How long would it be until someone discovered she wasn't the brave and stoic princess they all wanted her to be?

She glanced over her shoulder at Han. He was examining his wound, giving Leia a chance to look at him without being noticed. His countenance was pale and from his rigid jaw and taunt neck muscle, it was clear to her that he was in pain. Leia stopped in her tracks. He looked so...so… She shook her head and swallowed down the uneasiness building inside her. Han wasn't invincible, she reminded herself. No one was. Han's vulnerability to the hazards of life just wasn't something she wanted to think about, especially now in the middle of a mission. A gust of wind mechanically wheezed through the trees, chilling Leia's blood. She inhaled, lifted her chin, and walked toward Han. When he noticed her approach, Han shifted his weight, relaxed his jaw, and smiled up at her.

"Lean all your weight on the tree," she ordered.

"I'm fine here."

"I want to make sure you don't move while I'm stitching you up," she crouched over the first aid kit and busied herself with collecting the implements she needed.

"Bacta gel will be enough," he argued but did as he was told.

Leia tore open the sterilization pad and was immediately overtaken with nausea as the antiseptic smell singed her nostrils. Again, that ominous feeling pressed down on her and she was in her cell on the Death Star-

"Never expected you to be squeamish."

She looked up to find Han quizzically staring at her.

"Far from it," she adopted a mask of royalty. "This is going to hurt."

"Ow!" he flinched and pulled away from her.

"Hold still, will you?" she ordered as she wiped the sterilization pad over the fresh wound.

She evaluated the severity of his wound: three long tears in his skin near his shoulder, most likely made by one of the beast's paws and not its fangs. That was good. There would be less chance of a bacterial infection than had it been from a bite. One of the cuts was substantial but not life threatening, while the other two slashes were superficial. Once she finished cleaning the wound, Leia dug into the kit and pulled out a numbing agent. She shook the can and sprayed it directly onto Han's wound, making sure she evenly covered it. Then she found a needle and some polydioxanone thread. Her nimble fingers threaded the needle and she mentally prepared herself for the job. She stole a glance at Han before she began on the deepest cut. He no longer looked so vulnerable, but the sight of his blood was enough of a reminder that he wasn't invincible. Everybody bleeds, she reminded herself.

Everyone dies. Leia bit the inside of her cheek as that thought floated through her consciousness. _Eight months and fourteen and a half days…_

"You've done this before."

"Huh?" her fingers paused as she looked up at him. "Yes, too many times."

"So why does a princess know how to suture wounds?" Han lowered his chin a touch to look into her face.

Leia returned her large brown eyes to the task at hand, "I didn't just follow my father around on mercy missions. I provided medical aid on the field."

"Your father let you go into the middle of a battlefield?"

"He wanted me to have experience in triage," she tied the last knot and moved to the next tear. "You need to hold still."

"That's what I'm doin'," Han huffed. "How old were you when you first had one of these triage lessons?"

"Fourteen when I first stepped foot on a battlefield."

"Fourteen?" he blew air through his teeth. "Lil' girls are supposed to be playing with dolls and mooning over boys."

"I had better things to do," she shrugged. "Besides, dolls never interested me much and the boys in court bored me." She moved onto the last tear.

"What kinda boys don't bore you?" he waggled his eyebrows. "Guys like me?"

She rolled her eyes, "Hardly."

"I don't know," he drawled. "Seems like you've taken quite a shine to me."

"Quite a shine," she shook her head and chuckled.

"So it seems."

Leia glanced up at him and decided to turn the conversation, "What were you doing when you were fourteen?"

"Gettin' myself into trouble," he answered but said no more.

"Of course." Leia bit her bottom lip then smiled, "There. All finished."

Han pressed his lips together as he examined her work, "Not bad."

"Not bad? I'd like to see you do better," she squeezed the bacta gel on her fingers and spread it over her perfectly spaced sutures.

"I hope not anytime soon," his grin contradicted the somber tone in his voice.

The princess nodded then applied the bandages over his wound, "Okay, Flyboy. We need to get moving."

She offered a hand to him and helped him to his feet. Han slipped his shirt back over his head and pulled it into place. The both stopped short when they saw the state of their transportation.

"At least it was a quick death," Leia quietly said.

"Yeah," Han looked toward the direction of their destination. "Looks like we walk from here."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Han Solo and Princess Leia reached the outskirts of the city just as the sun began its descent into the horizon. Tired, Leia crouched down, rested her weight on her haunches, and she peered up at Han. The setting sun lingered on his wind-tousled hair, setting the strands aflame. His silhouette, with its strong angles and elegant lines, depicted his unwavering self-assurance, something Leia envied. She folded her arms on her knees and rested her chin on top. She had never been all that self-confident before…she closed her eyes and soundlessly inhaled. She was less assured of herself now. She perfected her mask. Could Han be hiding behind a mask too? Leia opened her eyes and stared at Han's back. The way his shirt pulled over the muscles of his back and shoulders inspired confidence. _A natural leader._ She could understand why people listened to him or looked to him for answers. She could also see how his cockiness could be attractive to some women—not her, of course—but some. It felt safe, knowing that he knows—or thinks he knows, which is just as good in times of uncertainty—how to handle various predicaments and situations they might find themselves in. Like the sea creature on the boat. Like the Death Star.

Leia pinched her arm as hard as she could. Eight months and fourteen and a half days, well more than half a day now had passed. Everyone else had moved on. Why couldn't she? She looked up at Han. He smiled down at her as he shoved the comlink into his pack.

"Chewie moved the _Falcon_ into position without a hitch an' they moved all the weapons to the base," he reached out a hand to her. "That leaves just us meeting with Rugger."

The princess took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. She slowly turned her head in the direction of the city, "Guess there's no going back now."

She felt Han's eyes on her and she inwardly cringed. Before he could say anything, she started walking down the path.

The setting sun painted the lingering clouds a vast number of shades of pinks and oranges, casting a soft glow over the humble city. It was a rare sight to see, one of the more spectacular views in the galaxy, but all Princess Leia Organa saw was white. White and black, to be exact. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, but none of her posture primping alleviated the sponginess in her thighs and the pressure in her chest. Han had told her he didn't think she would be recognized, but what if he was wrong? What if one of those storm troopers patrolling the streets could see passed her disguise?

Leia mentally shook that thought out of her head. The chances of her being recognized by a run-of-the-mill storm trooper were slim. It was a large galaxy and not everyone had heard of the princess of Alderaan, let alone had seen her face. Sure, she was at one time a highly visible political figure but this planet was far away from The Core and today she was made up quite differently from her usual self. Surely no one would mistake her for the senator she once was.

Of course, this was before she had a price on her head.

As they approached a pair of storm troopers, Han reached out and grabbed her hand. Leia pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The pressure in her chest eased into something more giddy, something heavy but light. Her legs still felt wobbly but there was an electrical current pulsing through the sponginess, reinforcing her thigh muscles, giving her more strength. Han's hand was warm and dry, rough but gentle in its firmness. His hold was steady, casual as if holding her hand was an everyday occurrence. She allowed her fingers to mold around his hand but was careful not to squeeze too hard or appear too surprised by his action.

The storm troopers walked pass them without pause, and Leia's shoulders relaxed just a touch. She glanced down at their intertwined hands and hoped that the adrenaline pumping through her blood wasn't evident in her throbbing fingers.

"There's the inn."

"Huh?"

"The inn? It's across the street."

The princess scanned the quaint two story building with the slanted thatched roof. She surveyed the activity on the street and the surrounding businesses. A café, a couple of specialty stores, a tavern, and a produce store. It looked safe enough. She pressed her lips together, _safe because of the Imperial presence, most likely. _Everybody was certain to be on their best behavior. She could practically taste the fear in the air.

A black shadow and a twirl of material caught in her peripheral vision. Leia's head didn't move but her eyes snapped in the direction of this shadow. When she couldn't locate the black figure, she turned her head and allowed her large brown eyes to openly search the vacant alley without success. Her brow lowered. She had seen something. She was certain of that. It had to be…

"Vader's here," she whispered her voice barely audible.

She felt Han's head turn slightly, "Where?"

"Across the street. He turned down that alley."

He didn't say anything for a moment, "I don't see anything."

She dared a bolder glance down the alley as the passed by it. There was no sign anyone had been there. "But I saw…"

"Come on," Han gave her hand a little tug and led her up the steps to the inn, "Vader wouldn't be sulkin' around in alleys. It's just your imagination."

Her face pinched at his dismissal, "I didn't imagine anything. I know what I saw."

"Whadja see?"

What _did_ she see? She licked her lips and furrowed her brow. A shadow and the ruffling of black material. Was it a cape? She sighed, "I…" Leia closed her mouth. "Never mind," her words were sharp and short, and she slipped her hand out of Han's.

Han grabbed the door handle but didn't open the door. He turned to her and leaned his head close to hers. She didn't look up.

"Vader's not going to bother himself with a backwater planet like this," his words alit upon the crown of her head. "You got nothin' to worry about."

"I'm _not_ worried," her words slammed into the ground.

He didn't say anything, just stood there for a pulse. Was she that transparent? Of course she was. Why else would he have grabbed her hand? Leia folded her arms across her chest as she followed him into the inn. She dug her fingernails into the skin of her arms. She was an Imperial Senator, a member of the Royal House of Alderaan. As a child she bridled her tears and tempered her enthusiasm. She had total control over her emotional reactions, a mastered skill that rivaled the savviest of politicos. Even her father, short of compliments and minute flatteries, recognized her solid composure as her greatest asset.

He would be so disappointed in her now.

Han went up to the front desk, "I'm lookin' for Guy Rugger."

The innkeeper narrowed his gray eyes, "Not here."

Han sighed, "Do you know where he is?"

"He said to give this to anyone who's lookin' for him," the innkeeper handed an envelope to Han. "Guess that's you."

"Yeah, that's me," he grumbled and walked away from the innkeeper before he opened it.

Leia had wandered over to the large picture window while Han dealt with the innkeeper. She didn't need the innkeeper to get a good look at her face. Beyond the transparent curtains and dusty glass people were busy with life. Leia watched the street traffic. The locals carried out their daily activities of deliveries and sales with their heads bent down and eyes focused on the ground in front of them. One particular man, stopped by a group of storm troopers, frantically searched his pockets and shook his head. Leia couldn't look away from the stark fear in the man's gray eyes. She winced as a storm trooper lashed out and struck his cheek. No one walking by glanced at the alarming scene, let alone came to the man's rescue.

"Ready?"

Han's breath tickled the top of her head and his hands clasped her upper arms. He stood behind her leaving only centimeters between their bodies. Leia involuntarily closed her eyes, and she nodded her head.

"Come on."

He stepped away and a cold breeze hit Leia's back. She shivered and followed him out the door.

"What's in the envelope?"

"A key to a room in this inn."

Leia furrowed her brow, "Is that where we're to meet him?"

"Guess we'll find out."

Han looked at the number written on the outside of the envelope again, "Room 207."

"207," Leia frowned. "Second floor."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Well, let's go."

The pair left the front office and walked to the external staircase attached to the side of the building. The permacrete stairs were old and the rails rusted but the stairs seemed sturdy enough. Room 207 was at the end of a long corridor. Leia looked behind her as she followed Han to the door of the room. The catwalk was narrow and visible. She bit her lip. She could see storm troopers patrolling the street, which made her uneasy. She looked at Han's back and fought the urge to grab his hand and run away. Of course, there was no running away. Maybe her presence on this mission was a mistake. Maybe she should have listened to Han when he ordered her to stay behind and let him and Harding meet with Rugger. She studied Han's easy gait and her doubts eased a touch. Despite the dangers lurking in the city, she would rather be with Han. He almost died on the boat. He was almost killed by that beast. He needed her, she tried to convince herself. But really, she was the one who needed him.

When they reached the door, Leia noticed that there was no staircase climbing down the other side of the building. She inhaled and exhaled, pushing her fears down.

Han slipped the key into the slot and opened the door. He dropped his knapsack on the nearest chair and explored the room. Leia rolled her bottom lip through her teeth and watched him. The room was a decent size, not cramped like she expected. It contained a small table, two plush chairs, a small vidscreen on a chest of drawers, and a bed.

Han came out of the bathroom, "A small window, maybe you could fit out of." He rested his hands on his hips, "That's the only other window."

Leia walked over to the picture window next to the door, pulled the heavy curtain to the side, and scrutinized the view. They were far enough back that they had no view of the street; she could possibly delude herself that the storm troopers weren't out. But that also meant they wouldn't see any coming. If they were discovered, there would be no easy escape, if there'd be any escape at all.

"You think it's a trap?"

She closed the curtain and swallowed, "I don't know. Rugger has dedicated his life to the rebellion. I have heard stories about his courage and resourcefulness. I can't see him betraying us." She turned to him and forced a small smile, "Besides, he didn't know who was coming to meet him."

He pressed his lips together and stared into her eyes as if gaging how much she believed her own statement.

"General Madine knows him," she avoided his eyes. "He grew up with him or something like that. General Madine wouldn't have sent us out here if he had any doubts."

"I hope you're right."

_Me too._ She kept that thought to herself. "What's that on the table?"

Han walked to the table and picked up the flimsy. "We're to meet him in an hour down in the tavern." He put the flimsy down, "At least we'll get to eat some real food."

"Real food," her stomach grumbled. "I can't remember the last time…"

Yes she did. It was on Alderaan. A home cooked meal of salini hen and hobi shoots in a sweet wine sauce. It was the last meal she had with her father.

"You know Chewie's a great cook," his voice was upbeat and enthusiastic. "When we get back on the _Falcon_ I'll have him cook you the best nerf steak you'll ever had."

"Sounds nice," she favored him with a smile. "I think I'll take a shower."

"Sure," his brow furrowed. "I'll be here watchin' the vids…"

She disappeared into the bathroom before he finished.

Leia frowned at her reflection in the looking glass above the sink. Despite all their trials, her makeup remained in place, but she could see the fatigue in her eyes. She touched the freckles peppered across the bridge of her nose and tried to relax her features. Was her anxiety transparent? Had Han noticed? She chided herself. She hadn't been much of a master of her emotions, which wasn't like her at all, and it irked her. Now that Alderaan…now that she had no home, would she forget who she was? Had her experience at the hands of Darth Vader changed her to someone she didn't recognize? Left her as a shadow of her formal self? Maybe she'd never recover. Maybe she'd always be haunted by the past. Could she live with that? She felt so alone.

She turned away from the mirror and stared at the sight before her. A real water shower! She reached out and turned the knob. The pipes creaked and the spout sputtered a few times before the water began to flow fluidly. She put her hand under the water. The last traces of Han's blood on her skin melted away. Han's blood…_everyone bleeds. He's not invincible._

She watched the water fall for a few more moments as she pushed down the memories of the beasts' attack and of home. Her body trembled as she began peeling off her clothes and she forced herself to take several slow breaths. After testing the temperature of the water with her hand one more time, she slipped under the downpour. The heat of the water saturated her hair, penetrated her skin but did nothing to calm her nerves. She leaned against the cool tile and conjured up an image of Han Solo. His hazel eyes that seemed to see right into her, his sharp tongue, his calloused hand holding hers…the knot in her chest started to untangle and her muscles slowly relaxed. She wasn't alone. She was with Han Solo who rescued her from Darth Vader and the Death Star (with her help, of course). She was going to be okay.

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The tavern was just as smoky and dark as every tapcafe she had been in lately. All of them dives. Nothing like some of the tapcafes in Alderaan. Why couldn't they meet contacts in more upscale tapcafes and taverns once in a while? They stood in the doorway for a moment, and Leia sensed that Han was scoping out escape routes. He took her hand, gentle but firm, and led her to a booth near the back door. He guided her into the booth then slid in next to her.

"Isn't it a little weird that we're sitting on the same side?" she asked.

He placed their hands on top of the table and leaned in close, "Nah. People will just think we're _in love_."

Leia rolled her eyes, "Great plan."

Han moved his lips close to her ear and his breath tickled her skin, "I just wanna make sure I can get you outa here fast if we hafta make a quick escape." Then he kissed her cheek.

Leia's cheek burned where his lips touched her and her skin rose in bumps. She wanted to pull her hand from his grasp, to put some space between them, but even if she could her body seemed to have a different desire.

"How hard can it be," he whispered, "to pretend to love a guy as good lookin' as me?"

She smiled despite herself, "More challenging than you think."

Was that disappointment that flashed in his hazel eyes? Why would he be disappointed? Leia placed her other hand on top of his and leaned into him. "Am I convincing enough?" she smiled up at him.

His expression sobered as he gazed into her eyes. She had never seen this look on him before. Rather, she had never seen him look at her like this. She wanted to look away but she was too mesmerized to tear her eyes off of him. Her breath caught in her throat and her mind rushed to say something, anything to regain control of the situation. Never looking away, Han moved in closer then pressed his lips ever so lightly against hers. Her eyes instinctively closed. He lingered there for only a few seconds but it felt more like minutes.

Han broke away, "So what do you feel like eating?"

"What?" she blinked.

Han chuckled and handed her a menu.

"I think I'll just have a bowl of soup."

"No you won't."

"I believe I'm old enough to make these decisions by myself, Captain."

"When do you think we're gonna have a chance to eat real food?"

She stared at the menu, "I'm not that hungry."

He thrust a finger at her, "You're gonna have a full meal and that's final."

Leia narrowed her eyes at him, "What? Are you my father?"

Did she just say that? Her eyes widened, and from the way Han looked at her—was that pity in his eyes?—he was affected by her words. Anger seeped into her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was anyone, _especially Han_, to pity her.

"Why don't you let me pick you out something? I'll pick something you'll love," he looked down at the menu, his voice cheery.

She pressed her lips together, trying to control her anger, "How would you know what I like to eat?"

Han shrugged, "I know that don't like frii tubers and dahlia beans, especially when their refried. Let's see," he tapped his finger against his chin and looked up, "you favor curry nerf and your absolute favorite is khahali."

Leia's brow furrowed, "How do you know…?"

"You go back for seconds for the curry and khahali in the dining commons," he smugly smiled.

Her mouth opened then slowly closed, "You keep track of what I eat?" She didn't know how she felt about that.

"I'm an observant kinda guy," he slouched in his seat.

She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes again, "What's Luke's favorite?"

"Luke? He's not a picky eater. He goes back for seconds at every meal."

"You have too much time on your hands," she shook her head.

"Nah," he sported a lop-sided grin, "I'm just observant. Besides, I know that you're adventurous and probably have eaten many different kinds of cuisine, being a senator and all. So, I can't go wrong."

"Fine," she conceded. "Go ahead and choose something for me."

Han sat up and grinned as he studied the menu. He then punched their order into the digital order screen on the edge of the table.

"So what did you order for me?" she leaned over to see what he was typing.

He covered the screen and smiled impishly, "It's a surprise."

"It better be a good surprise."

"You don't trust me?" he conjured up a hurt look.

Leia gazed at him. _Don't you trust me?_ She sighed, _with my life._ "No."

"Ah," he grabbed his heart dramatically, "that cuts me to the quick."

She couldn't help but laugh, "I better like it."

"You will."

"I better," she repeated more firmly.

"Trust me."

"Captain Solo?"

The pair looked up at the tall man with gray hair cropped close to his head. His face was lined as if he'd seen too many horrors in his lifetime, but not at all worn out. Though he was slender in built, he projected strength and self-assurance. He slid into the booth across from them.

"Rugger," Han nodded at the man.

"Your Highness," Rugger smiled at her, "it's an honor to have you here."

She politely smiled back, "Just Leia."

"We were surprised that someone of your rank would join such a dangerous mission, and with the bounty-"

"She's more than a figurehead," Han interjected. "She does this all the time."

Leia glanced at Han, his words catching her off guard.

"I wouldn't recognize you if my men didn't tell me you were coming," Ruggers eyes shone with admiration.

"That was the point," Han studied Rugger's expression.

"Lovely and brave," he smiled at her. "A lethal combination."

Her cheeks flushed, "I don't consider myself that brave."

"After all you've been through—"

_Eight months, fourteen days—that's 2 weeks—and one more day…_

"I hate to interrupt you," Han shifted in his seat, "but we've got some business to discuss."

"You're right," Rugger rested his elbows on the table.

"Why did you choose to meet us here instead of the base?" Leia asked.

"I needed to be here," he glanced around. "I thought you'd bring more men with you."

"We lost two on the way to the base," Han stated, "but our mission was to supply you with weapons and medical supplies. Doesn't take an army for that."

"And what do you think the weapons are for?" Rugger's green eyes shifted between Han and Leia. "The time has come to make our move."

"Move?" the princess' brow creased.

"The people here are tired of that tyrant Imperial governor ordering deaths, taking prisoners and torturing them for the slightest offense, stealing fathers and mothers, sons and daughters in the middle of the night. They're tired of being intimidated. They're ready to do something about it." Rugger shook his head, "we'll have to arm the locals."

"Arm the locals?" Leia repeated. "They're not experienced."

"We all started as 'locals' in the rebellion," Rugger stared meaningfully into her eyes. "The boy who blew up the Death Star, he was fresh off Tatooine with no experience in space combat."

"And he wouldn't have been successful if Captain Solo didn't come to his rescue," she argued.

"And you were just a smuggler before you joined," Rugger addressed Han.

"I haven't joined anything," he protested, "and I had experience with people shooting at me."

"And you, Princess," Rugger turned his attention away from Han, "you are royalty—"

"I've been part of the rebellion since I was fourteen," Leia interjected.

"But not as a soldier," he pointed out.

"She was groomed for the rebellion," Han denoted.

Rugger leaned back and slung his arms over the back of the booth. "What I'm saying is everyone started out green, save for people like Madine and Dodonna and a few others who defected from the Imperial military."

"Your role here is to carry out covert strikes to protect the people," Leia reminded him.

"How long do think we can do that before the Empire starts taking it out on the people." Rugger shook his head, "I'm telling you that the people are ready for change. If we could take this city…"

Han blew air out of his mouth, "That's a big ambition. "It won't be easy."

"Nothing worth it is ever easy."

Han's hazel eyes slid to Leia.

Leia looked at Han.

"A lot of innocence could die," Han pressed his lips together.

"Does General Madine know about what you plan to do?" she asked.

"He trusts my decisions."

That didn't convince Leia, but she doubted that she and Han could stop Rugger.

"You're either going to help us out, or leave us to our fate," the rebel leader folded his hands on the table.

"We don't have the men," Han pointed out.

"You have enough to lead the locals."

Han glanced at Leia and she slightly tipped her head. Rugger was going to do what he was going to do no matter what Han or Leia or anyone said. Maybe the people would have more of a chance if their team took part.

"We could probably get you reinforcements, but it'll take time. If you just wait—"

"No, the time is now," Rugger reiterated. "The people can't wait any longer."

Well, Rugger was living up to his reputation. He always had good timing, but the lack of trained soldiers worried Leia.

"Fine," Han sighed. "We're in."

"My men have already discussed the logistics with your men."

"That was a little presumptuous."

"As I said we were planning to make our move with our without you. I was hoping you'd be with us." Rugger shrugged. "We have already moved our men into position and have distributed weapons to those we were able to. Your men are already here."

"What?" Anger bled into Han's voice. So much for being the man in charge of this mission.

"I figured you'd want them here. Traipsing back to the base to retrieve them would have slowed your departure if you chose to leave."

"That was thoughtful of you."

Rugger ignored Han's remark, "Tomorrow afternoon. Elt will come to your hotel room and take you to the safe house where we'll discuss our plan in detail."

Rugger stood nodded at the pair just as the server droid brought Han and Leia their meals. Rugger then disappeared out the back exit. Leia stared at the plate before her.

"Well, that was unexpected."

"Just like this planet," Leia picked up her fork and began pushing the food on her plate around, "Rugger has always been unpredicable."

"Makes him a liability."

"He's a brilliant tactical analysis, but his unpredicability has kept him from moving up in the ranks," Although she didn't have much of an appetite after metting with Rugger, she took a bite from her plate. Her eyes closed as she savored the bite, "This is heaven."

"See what good comes from trusting me?" Han started in on his plate.

Her second mouthful kept her from retorting.

*updates may slow from here since I am close to the end of what I previously wrote. I promise the story will have an ending and I will try to keep the updating in a timely fashion. I'm determined to finish this one in the manner I intended when I first started it.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8:

When they entered their room, Leia stopped in the doorway and stared at the bed. Han, on the other hand, walked past her and flopped himself right on it.

"I sure hope Rugger knows what he's doin'," he stretched out his arms and stared at the ceiling. "Taking an entire city?"

"He's pulled off crazier stunts, from my understanding," she stared at Han.

"What's crazier than taking an entire city with no real army?" he propped himself up on his elbows, "I have to question his sanity."

"Many have questioned yours," she folded her arms across her chest.

"What's wrong?"

She rolled her lips between her teeth and furrowed her brow, "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothin'?"

"Rugger," she started then stopped. "I don't know. I have a bad feeling."

"Yeah," Han agreed then quizzically tilted his head, "but somethin' else is bothering you."

Her cheeks flushed as she twisted a braid around her finger. "There's only one bed," she mumbled.

Han put his hands on it and gave it a little bounce, "And a comfortable one at that."

Leia's left foot began to tap and she looked away, "I'm not comfortable…"

"Sharing a bed with me?" Han finished her sentence. "Sweetheart, I have no intension of sleeping on the floor."

"Then I'll sleep on the floor," she marched over to the bed and grabbed a pillow.

"That's ridiculous," he grabbed the pillow in her hand. "It's big enough for both of us."

"I said—"

"What?" he leered at her, "You afraid you won't be able to control yourself?"

"In your wildest dreams!"

"My dreams are pretty wild," he winked.

Her large brown eyes widened and retracted, "I prefer to know nothing about your dreams!"

"Okay," he let go of the pillow, "if you can manage to stay on _your_ side of the bed…"

She really didn't want to sleep on the floor, but…"If you keep your hands to yourself."

"You don't have to worry about that," the levity in his voice faded away.

She inhaled deeply to mask the…hurt?...disappointment?...she felt, "What side do you want?"

"I'll take this side," he scooted to the side that was closest to the door.

"Fine," Leia grabbed her knapsack and stalked to the refresher.

Inside the refresher, the princess turned the knobs of the sink faucet and thrust a finger under it to gauge the temperature of the water. Eight months, two weeks and a day, was it? Alderaan, the Death Star, Luke, Han…it all felt like yesterday. And here she was in a hotel room with a man she barely knew—barely? Was that accurate after all they had been through?

_Don't you trust me? _

_With my life._

She cupped her hands, collected some water, and splashed her face with it, repeating the action several times. She looked up into the mirror and stared at her reflection. Most traces of makeup had washed off, yet she hardly recognized herself. She studied the shape of her lips then pressed her finger against them. Han had kissed her as if it was nothing. Leia frowned under her finger. It _was_ nothing to him. It should be nothing to her, but…but it wasn't. She didn't know what it was, but that light kiss sparked a burning inside her, and she wanted to be kissed again. By Han Solo? She shook that thought out of her head and took out a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.

Leia slipped out of her dress. So far Han Solo held her hand, embraced her during the thunderstorm, and now he kissed her. Human contact, something that she didn't realize she craved, needed until now. Just when she was getting used to keeping everyone at a distance, or rather, everyone keeping _her_ at a distance, he reminded her that she was a real person. _She's more than a figurehead. _She was more than a symbol of the rebellion. And Han acknowledged that every time he called her a ridiculous name, teased her, fought with her, touched her. Leia closed her eyes to suppress the tears that pressed against her lids. He made it easy to forget her losses even if it was only for a few seconds or minutes. That's the nicest thing anyone had done for her since…And it was Han Solo who did it, the last person she ever expected to ease her pain be it a short time. She sharply inhaled then exhaled before slipping her T-shirt over her head and stepping into her shorts.

She raised her large brown eyes and lifted her chin, appearing more like herself. So, Han Solo kissed her, and now she was about to share a bed with him. This was not at all something she was prepared for, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. But what choice did she have? _You could sleep on the floor…_okay, she may have had a choice, but she was choosing the bed. It would be more comfortable and she could use a good night's sleep in a real bed. Leia raked her hair with her fingers until most of the tangles unraveled. Despite of how she felt about Han—or maybe in spite of—the kiss made the situation all the more uncomfortable, but she'd been in more uncomfortable positions and survived those. Leia straightened her posture and gazed into her own eyes until she conjured up all the composure she could muster.

When she stepped out of the refresher, she found Han propped up against the head board, fully dressed—holster and all—with his hands resting on his stomach and his chin resting on his collar bone. She walked over to her side of the bed, and his eyes popped open.

She smiled quizzically at him, "Aren't you going to get _under_ the covers?"

"Never thought you'd be so eager to get me into bed," his lips stretched into a lop-sided grin.

"I—" she bristled. "Normal people change into nightwear and sleep under the covers, but of course, you're anything but normal.

"I'm one of a kind," Han's grin widened.

_You make alota assumptions about me when you really know nothin' about the kinda man I am._

"You certainly are," she pulled back the covers.

"I just don't want to be taken by surprise."

"You think Rugger will betray us?" she slipped her blaster underneath the pillow.

"I'll sleep better if I expect the worse," he adjusted his shoulders and closed his eyes.

"Shouldn't we take shifts?" Leia climbed into the bed.

"Nah, I'm a light sleeper," Han answered. "Nothin' will get past me."

She hesitated as she studied his position, "Are you comfortable?"

He opened one eye, "Isn't that sweet of you to worry about my comfort." Then he opened his other eye and smiled impishly, "Or are you just tryin' to get me under the covers?"

"I—"

"No time for hanky panky, Sweetheart," Han closed his eyes but continued to smile.

"I—oh!" she punched her pillow and turned her back to him. "You need to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow."

"I'll sleep well enough."

"Fine!" she grunted, "Good night."

"Pleasant dreams, and stranger things," he answered.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

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A sharp rapping at the door dragged Leia from sleep. With eyes wide open she stared at the ceiling and waited. Who would be knocking on _their_ door? The forceful rapping morphed into a door-jangling pound, and Leia's large brown eyes searched for Han. He was still next to her, body spread out on top of the covers, head propped against the headboard, and hands clasped over his stomach. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

"Han," she whispered. "Han."

He didn't move. Leia rolled onto her knees and bit her lip. She stared at his peaceful face. How could he still be asleep? What happened to him being a light sleeper? She glanced at the door. It suddenly quieted. The princess rubbed her arms. Was she dreaming?

"Han?" she breathed.

When he failed to respond, she lay back down and pulled the covers up to her chin. A stupid dream, that was all. Luckily, she didn't call out and wake Han. How incredibly stupid she would have felt. As it was, she felt pretty stupid just having a nightmare. It made her feel childish and frail, and those were the last two things she wanted to be in front of Han Solo.

Then the doorknob rattled again, and Leia sucked in a breath. Once again, she looked to Han who showed no reaction. She sat up slowly. _Wake up. Wake up,_ she commanded herself. Another knock pulled her out of the dream.

"Han," Leia pushed at his shoulder, "Someone's here."

He didn't open his eyes, "It's fine."

"I don't think it's fine."

"Go back to sleep."

_Go back to sleep?_ She looked at him for a moment. Then she reached for her blaster and crept to the door, positioning herself against the wall between the picture window and the door. Leia carefully pulled back the curtain, but there was no one out there. The doorknob rattled again. Maybe she couldn't see the person from her where she stood. It could be Rugger. But wouldn't Rugger announce his presence instead of twisting the knob? Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was afraid of someone hearing him. What time was it? She looked at her watch but her eyes were too blurry from sleep to read the numbers. She twisted around and looked out the peep hole. It was too cloudy to see anything behind the door. She pressed her body against the wall again. There was a hiss and a click. Whoever it was had a key. Then why did they bother knocking? The door flew open, knocking her to the ground.

"Don't move!"

Several storm troopers filed into the room with their blasters drawn. When one of the storm troopers pointed his blaster at Han, Leia aimed her blaster and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Han!"

A shot screamed out and sparks flew as the bolt from the storm trooper's blaster pierced Solo's chest.

"NO!"

Leia sat up, fighting to catch her breath. It sounded too loud and scraped against the quiet room. She turned her head toward Han and watched his chest rise and fall with his own steady breathing. His head still rested against the headboard and his hands were resting on his stomach. She frowned. He definitely wasn't a light sleeper. Leia reached out and touched his arm ever so lightly just to reassure herself that he was really there, that her nightmare had ended. He shifted but didn't wake up. She exhaled, climbed out of bed and went to the refresher. She splashed some water on her face then cupped her fingers and drank the cold water from her hands. She avoided her reflection as she rested her hands on the sink counter. What a vivid dream that was; it shook her to her core. At least it wasn't another dream about the Death Star or Darth Vader or the destruction of Alderaan. She never could sleep after such a nightmare. This was a common everyday nightmare. There were storm troopers all over the streets; it was normal that they crept into her unconscious. She yawned then dried her hands and face with a towel. Just a dream. She was safe with Han Solo by her side and still tired enough to go back to sleep. She tip-toed back to her side of the bed and pulled back the covers.

Keeping her large dark eyes focused on Han, Leia lay back down and clutched the blanket to her chest. She tried to quiet her breathing but it remained raspy as it continued to scrape against the dark. Certainly if she couldn't settle her respiration she would end up waking Han and having to explain herself. She closed her eyes and forced her breath into a rhythmic cadence. In then out…in then out…in then out…in…

Her eyes popped open to the dark. Someone was in the room. Her large brown eyes searched the shadows in the room but couldn't detect any forms that resembled a sentient being. But someone was there, watching her, breathing in time with her. It wasn't Han; she could feel his heavy sleep next to her. No it was someone else, someone familiar, someone she hoped to never see again…


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9:

Princess Leia's breath caught in her throat, but the rhythmic, raspy respiration continued its cadence. Her large brown eyes hooked onto the all-too-familiar form that was seated in one of the plush chairs. She couldn't move, couldn't look away from the imposing figure.

"You're just a dream," she whispered into the dark.

"Am I?" his voice startled her. He never spoke in her dreams before. Her eyes shifted to Han.

"He is unharmed for the moment," Darth Vader rested his hand on the table. "But he cannot help you now."

She slipped her hand under her pillow, wrapping her fingers around the butt of her blaster, but didn't pull it out.

"You weren't an easy one to find, Your Highness. But my search for you is now complete."

Leia slowly let go of the blaster and sat up. "Now that you found me," she swallowed, "what do you plan to do?"

"You've caused me a lot of trouble. As you can imagine, the Emperor was very displeased that his ultimate weapon was destroyed."

"Good," she whispered.

Vader expelled a menacing chuckle, "I see your time on the Death Star has taught you nothing."

"And I'm sure that you've learned there's nothing you can do to me that will make me reveal any of the Alliance's secrets," she lifted her chin.

"Don't be so certain about that."

Leia's large brown eyes instinctively shifted to Han for the minutest of seconds.

"You should be dead," Vader stood up and Leia cowered.

"I know," she whispered.

Vader strode to the foot of the bed and Leia's hand slipped under her pillow again.

"You should have been on Alderaan when it was destroyed."

"I know," she whispered, letting go of the blaster.

"You should have been executed on the Death Star, but Tarkin was a fool."

"I know."

"You shouldn't have survived our…sessions , at least not with your mind intact."

Leia shrank into herself.

"Ah," Darth Vader sighed with pleasure, "but you didn't survive unscathed, did you?"

She gazed up into his black orbs and slowly shook her head.

"Nightmares, flashbacks…memories burned into your mind, the innocent lives lost because of you," the Sith Lord loomed over her. "You're damaged goods."

Leia's mouth went dry.

"I'm sure you hide it well. But one day….one day."

"There's no point in taking me prisoner," Leia pointed out. "You know that."

"Yes, you are useless to me."

"Then just kill me," she jutted out her chin.

"You should be dead," Vader repeated.

Her mouth opened but she had nothing to say.

"So here's the man who saved you from execution," the Sith Lord walked over to the side of the bed where Han slept. "So do you thank him?...Or do you curse him?"

"He's not…"

"Don't lie to me, Your Highness," Vader thrust a finger at her, his tone harsh. "My sources are reliable and correct."

"He's not part of the Alliance," fear seeped into her voice. "This isn't his fight."

"Then what is he doing here?"

"He's just a smuggler, a mercinary," she swallowed, hoping that she was convincing enough.

Vader studied her for a moment. "You don't really believe that."

"No," she spontaneously confessed. She closed her eyes, "But still, this isn't his fight.

"If it wasn't for him, you would be dead."

Leia looked at Han as tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back, "He was at the wrong place at the wrong time." She returned her attention back to the Sith Lord, "He did it for the reward."

"Hard to believe," he stared at Han's sleeping form. "He's still here."

"Please…"

Darth Vader held his hand up over Han.

"Please."

She was answered with nothing more than Vader's mechanical breathing. Han awoke from his Force-induced slumber and grasped at his neck as he began to choke. Leia leapt at her enemy, knocking his hand away. The Dark Lord laughed and thrust his hand in her direction. She flew across the room, slamming hard against the far wall. She tried to get up but her body couldn't move. All she could do was helplessly watch as Han struggled to breathe.

"What is it?" Han sat up, brandishing his blaster.

Leia blinked, "What?"

"Your breathing changed," Han scrutinized the shadows in the room, "What woke you up?"

She sat up and pushed her hair behind her ears, "Nothing woke me up."

Han studied her face and Leia hoped that none of her fears were present there.

"You gasped," he furrowed his brow.

"I yawned," she lied.

"You okay?"

Leia wrapped her arms around her legs and nodded, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Han kept his haze eyes on her as he reholstered his blaster, "Bad dream?"

"No," she firmly said, and she lay back down on her side facing away from Han, pulling the covers over her shoulders.

She squeezed her eyes shut and willed Han's presence away. Bad dream. What did he know? It was none of his business. _Leave me alone_, she wanted to scream. She felt him settle back into the bed, and her anger disipated. Then, to her surprise, without a word, he rested his arm on her hip. Leia froze. His arm and hand were warm, and his heat seeped through the covers, through her skin and into her bones. The knot in her stomach unfurled and her and the memory of Darth Vader faded away to a whisper. It was a bold move on Han's part, to touch her so casually, so intimately, but instead of resisting, she relished the comfort he gave her.

In just minutes she fell into a dreamless sleep.

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The smell of bacon, doret syrup, and pancakes roused Princess Leia from sleep. She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms above her head. Then she turned her face toward the source of the smells to find Han Solo watching her. She sat up.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," he smiled at her.

"What's all that?" she smiled back.

"Thought you might be hungry, so I ordered room service."

"That was thoughtful," she climbed out of bed and walked over to the table.

"Well, I was hungry, too," he sported a lop-sided grin.

She shook her head, "Of course." Leia sat down across from Han and he pushed the plate in front of her. "Thanks."

She picked up a piece of bacon with her fingers, rubbed it in the doret syrup, and took a bite, "Mmm…"

"I thought you'd like it," Han resumed eating his breakfast.

"You do have good taste."

He leaned back in his chair and continued to eat. She followed suit, focusing on the plate before her. She could feel his eyes on her, inciting a heat rise to her cheeks. Leia pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped one arm around her legs as she dipped another piece of bacon in the syrup. She was doing her best to ignore him, but her discomfort urged her to say something.

"What?" she looked up.

"Huh?" he didn't look away.

"You're staring at me," she picked up her napkin. "Do I have doret syrup all over my face?" She wiped at her face.

"No," he smiled. "I was just thinking."

Her brow furrowed, "About what?"

"About how beautiful you are in the morning," he took a bit of his pancake without removing his eyes from her.

Leia felt herself blush, "Are you teasing me?"

"Not at all," there was such sencerity in his voice that she had to look away.

She smoothed down her hair and pulled her knees closer to her body, "My hair must be frightful."

"Disarray looks good on you," his eyes took on a seriousness that made Leia squirm a bit in her chair. "In fact, I think I like this look best."

"Thank you," she frowned, uncertain of his intent, "I think."

Han chuckled and she turned her quizzical eyes to him, "What?"

"Who woulda imagined a guy like me would be sharin' breakfast with royalty," he draped an arm over the back of his chair and shook his head.

Leia's face fell. _Royalty._ She lifted her chin, "Breakfast with a lowly smuggler. I guess life is full of surprises."

Han didn't take her comment as a slight, which took her off guard. Instead, he favored her with a lop-sided grin, "Yep."

She studied him for a moment before turning her attention back to her meal.

"Everyone has bad dreams now and then," he said quietly. "Nothin' to be ashamed of."

_Every now and then, yes. Almost every night?_ "That's an interesting fact, Captain."

"After everything you've been through…"

"I never said I had a bad dream last night," Leia stopped moving her fork around and glared at him. "And if I did, it's none of your business."

"Then that little gasp last night," Han raised his eyebrows, "must've been some dream."

"As I said, it's none—"

"Probably about me," he grinned. "That's why you look so…uncomfortable, so embarrassed."

Leia's mouth dropped open then snapped shut, "I can assure you, that you never make any appearances in my dreams whatsoever!"

"Such strong protest. I must be good," he winked at her.

"You're insufferable!"

"But not in your dreams."

Her large brown eyes widened and retracted and she sputtered, "Dreaming of you? That would be more of a nightmare."

Han's expression sobered and he rested his elbows on the table, "You wanna talk about it?"

Leia pressed her lips together, "No."

They finished their breakfast in silence.

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Just as Rugger said, Marbo retrieved Han and Leia and took them to the safe house. As they entered the home, a man and women, who's makeup and hair were similar to Leia's, greeted them.

"I am Geriob, and this is my wife, Lortis," he shook their hands using both of his. The wife just inclined her head.

"Children," Lortis clapped her hands, "go out and play."

Leia watched the two kids who were reading books on the floor scramble out of the door. She watched after them. Was it safe? Did they know what Rugger planned for today? Of course, they did. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Come," Geriob beakoned them, "Rugger is waiting."

Han, Leia, and Marbo followed Geriob down a short hall and into a room. The room was tiny and the modest bed, a matress on the floor, took up most of it. There were neatly folded piles of clothes lining the walls and a broken mirror fixed to the wall on the far end. A small window allowed a stream of sunlight into the room. Geriob stopped in front of a wardrobe, opened it and knocked on the back panel. It slid open. He then led them down a steep set of stairs and into a dark, dank, and smoky room with a table and a few chairs. A row of weapons leaned against the wall. Rugger was seated at the far end of the table.

"Welcome, Princess, Captain Solo," Rugger remained seated with a flimsy spread before him.

He waved a hand toward the chairs, and all but Geriob took a seat. Rugger waited for Geriob to exit the room before he said anymore, "Everyone is in their place and just waiting for the signal."

"And what is that?" Han asked.

"You'll know when the time comes," Rugger shrugged.

"You're risking my men's lives, not to mention the lives of the locals," Han angled himself toward Rugger. "I think we have a right to know."

"All in good time."

Han exchanged looks with Leia.

"Don't you trust me?" Rugger held his hands out.

"No," Han said plainly.

Rugger sighed, "Princess, General Madine has my back. That should be good enough for you."

"But it's not," Leia pursed her lips. Rugger's secrecy could only mean it was something they weren't going to like.

Rugger shook his head, "We're wasting time."

"Then I suggest you tell us."

The low tone in Han's voice prompted Rugger to explain, "The locals will march to the governor's palace demanding reform."

"Will they be armed?"

"Some," Rugger shrugged. "My men will be among them armed. We armed all those we could get weapons to. We're hoping the governor will give into the demands."

"But you're not expecting that," Han leaned back in his chair.

"Well, they are Imperials."

Leia leaned forward, "The governor won't put up with any protests. You know that."

"All we need them to do is to fire first," Rugger's green eyes met the princess'. "We'll have the sympathy of other planets, maybe encourage other cities here and elsewhere in the galaxy to take up arms against the Empire."

"If you're successful in taking the city," Han pointed out.

"All we need to accomplish first is taking the governor's palace."

"You're risking innocent lives."

"You know better than anyone, Princess," Rugger's expression hardened, "sacrifices must be made during war."

She paled, losing all power of speech.

Han's anger seeped into his words, "If you're implying-"

"I'm implying nothing," Rugger held out his hands. "Just stating facts."

Han glared at the gray-haired man for a moment, "And just what is our role in this uprising?"

"You'll be on the tactical team," Rugger explained. "You have a reputation of getting into and out of…sticky places."

The Death Star. "Security will tighten once this gets started."

"No," Leia looked at Han. "We're not going to storm the palace."

"Not you. Just Solo. I figured since you have training in triage, that would be your role."

"No." her protest was firm. "The High Command did not authorize this attack. If General Madine knew what you were planning—"

"Who says he doesn't know?"

Leia narrowed her eyes on the man, "If he knew, he would have sent an army."

"You're right. But we cannot pass up this opportunity. With or without the Alliance's approval, this battle will take place." Rugger looked to Solo, "You know we need you."

"This is the map of the governor's palace?" Leia indicated the flimsy on the table. "Captain Solo, will assist you with the logistics, but he won't be leading the attack."

She felt Han's eyes on her, but he said nothing.

"Captain Solo and our men take part in creating a distraction so your men can infiltrate the palace," her tone gave no room for objections. "Once we've completed our part of the mission, we'll return to the Alliance and plead your case for more men."

Rugger studied the princess for a moment, tracing the map with his finger, "Then I guess it's settled."

Without further debate, the rebel leaders plotted out their plans.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10:

Everything happened so fast, the protesters, the gunshots, the explosions she helped set, the bolts of blaster fire, the screams, all the chaos of a battlefield. Just as she—and Rugger—expected, it didn't take long for the Imperial governor to react with violence to the people who marched in the streets demanding change. Without making an appearance or attempting to placate the potentially viotal situation, orders were given to fire among the crowd. What the governor didn't expect was the people to fire back with blasters, and swinging clubs, and flying rocks, and exploding homemade bombs. It turned ugly fast, and Rugger got the battle he wanted.

And just as Rugger said, the people were ready for a fight. Their determination and anger were etched into their faces and firey words. As a couple hundred locals marched through the city streets and overtook the Imperial Square, Han, Leia, and the rest of the team, along with Marbo and a few of his men, set off explosives in various parts of the city to draw attention away from the crowds. They were now engaged in a fire fight with storm troopers .

"Do you think Rugger was successful?" Leia asked Han over the blaster fire.

"It's going to take him time to infiltrate the palace," Han shot a storm trooper before continuing. "Even with all the chaos out here, the palace is still heavily guarded."

Leia took out another storm trooper, "Your plan for getting in was brilliant."

"Of course," Han took a moment to grin at her, "but they could still run into snags."

"Let's try to be optimistic."

"You think the Alliance will agree to send reinforcements?"

"Once they know what is happening, I can't see them saying 'no'." She paused to shoot more stormtroopers, "I'm sure General Madine will back up our request."

"I hope you're right. This is going to turn into a massacre," Han pressed his lips together. "Okay, ready?"

"You first," Leia ordered. "I'll cover you."

"I'll cover you," he countered.

"It would be—"

"I don't have time to discuss this in a committee!"

"I'm not a—"

"Go!"

Leia grunted then ran across the street as Han continued to fire at the storm troopers. Once she reached the other side and found cover behind a garbage dump truck, she returned the favor for Han. They continued to cover each other as they made their way closer to the Square and met up with the rest of the team at the rendevous point. From there, they were to return to the _Falcon_ and head out, but once they reached their destination, leaving wasn't an option.

"They're getting slaughtered!" Harding yelled as Han and Leia met up with him.

Although armed protestors were giving the Imperials a good fight, there were still many unarmed and poorly armed protestors—not to mention innocents—caught in the crossfire. The small homemade explosives that some protestors threw at speeders and storm troopers kept some of the Imperials at bay, but the protesters remained outnumbered, out gunned, and at a definite disadvantage. It would be a miracle if they succeeded.

"We've got to take out the snipers!"

Han nodded, "Marbo, Elt. You know the city better than we do. Can you get some of your men to blitz attack a few of 'em on the roofs?"

Marbo brandished his weapon, "Will do."

"Once we get rid of most of the snipers, we'll head back to the Alliance and send reinforcements."

"Good luck!" Elt shouted as they rushed to complete their mission.

Han glanced at his original team, "Harding, you take the northeast side and Kindler will cover you. Grif, the west side with Harris to cover you. Borj, Roy, you're both excellent shots. You decide who covers whom. Take the south. Leia, Crag and I will stand ground here. The rest of you, cover the medics. Once the snipers are taken out, head back to the _Falcon._ You all have the coordinates. Keep your comlinks on."

The men acknowledged Han's orders and took off to their designated area.

Han rushed over to a nearby speeder, ripped out the control panel, then manipulated the wires to his liking. In less than a standard minute, the engine revved up. He flashed Leia and Crag a cocky smile, hopped into the driver's seat, and guided the speeder to a building with a low hanging eave.

He jumped out, "Come here. Help me tip it over."

Leia and Crag rushed to his side and they both pushed at the speeder until it was turned on its side.

"Impressive," Leia couldn't hide her admiration as she took cover underneath the eave and behind the speeder.

"Did you expect anything less?" Han's grin was lop-sided and cocky.

Crag and Leia exchanged looks.

"Careful. That head of yours isn't going to fit inside the _Falcon's _cockpit if it gets any bigger!"

Han's gin widened then he sobered and his eyes scanned the positions of the snipers. Leia and Crag focused their attentions on the stormtroopers who would inevidably aim their blasters at them when Han started firing. Leia slowly inhaled and exhaled as the firefight began. Her heart pounded fast with the adrenaline rushing through her veins, and all she could think about was that if she and Crag failed to take out the stormtroopers aiming their blasters in Han's direction, Han could die. She had to push that distracting thought out of her mind. It would only hinder her aim. Next to her, Han took longer than usual to line up his sights before he squeezed the trigger. She smiled every time he let out a "Ha!" of success, and her worries eased a touch.

This was Leia's first real battle. Yes, she had been on battlefields before as she had boasted to Han, but never at the front, and never as a soldier. And now she was truly a soldier. From senator to soldier, it had happened so fast. Eight months and…how many weeks, days was it? Just over eight months and her life changed in ways she never expected. She had imagined her role in the Alliance would be that of a leader behind the scenes, a liason between the High Command and the leaders of planets with sympathies leaning toward the rebellion. At most she figured that she would join missions, like this one, running supplies between bases. Not as a soldier.

But now, here she was, blaster in hand, at the front lines of a battle. Eight months ago on the Death Star was the first time she fired a blaster outside of a target range, fired at living persons. She didn't give it much thought then as she was fighting for her life, for Luke and Han—just strangers then—and for the Alliance, for if those plans in R2-D2 hadn't reach the rebels, all hope for the Alliance's survival would have died. But in that moment, firing a blaster at live targets changed everything. She was a soldier.

The blaster she brandished, the squeeze of a trigger, felt natural—too natural—and it sent a chill up her spine. She was protecting Han, but they weren't exactly fighting for their lives like they were as they tried to escape the Death Star. Those men in the eerie white and black armor were men indeed, fighting perhaps because they believed in the Empire as much as she believed in the Alliance. Or they were just men who needed a job, perhaps had families to support. Or they perhaps weren't given a choice. Whatever their reason for siding with the Empire, they were still just men, men she aimed to kill.

And even though they were just men, men like Han Solo (well, maybe not like Han Solo), humans with hopes, worries, and aspirations, they were the enemy, and she was a soldier with a duty to complete. She pushed their humanity from her mind and focused on their actions. They were shooting at Han. They were shooting at the unarmed as well as the armed. Lives had to be taken to save lives; wasn't that what war was all about?

_Give me the name of a target…_

"Ha!" Han took a moment to grin at her.

Leia shook her head and turned her attention back to the battle before her. That's when a woman caught her attention, a woman with a young child, trying to make their way to safety. What was a little girl doing among all this bloodshed? Then she remembered that this particular battle wasn't being fought out in trenches or at military targets away from cities; it was running it's course where everyday life took place just hours earlier. Not everyone here was part of the fight. They were just bystanders caught in the crossfire. What was Rugger thinking? Taking a city was full of risk, but if they succeeded it would be a great victory for the Alliance. Would her opinion of his actions differ if she weren't in the middle of it witnessing the carnage?

"No!" she exclaimed as the woman was shot dead, leaving the child standing next to her mother's body crying.

Her exclamation captured Han's attention, "Leia! It's too dangerous! Stay here!" He glanced between the little girl and the snipers before he made his decision.

But she ignored him. Before he could act, she sprinted from her relatively safe position and into the open. She heard Han expel a Corellian curse then the blaster fire from both Han and Crag as they attempted to cover her. Leia rushed over to the screaming child and reached her arms out to the little girl. Just as her hands closed around the girl's torso, a white flash of hot pain pierced her body and she fell to the ground.

"Leia!"


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11:

The cries of a child, the coarse material of the little girl's dress, the stampeding feet in the street, the screech of blaster fire, the white hot pain that jolted through her body, the gravel slammed into her skin, the jerk and jostling of her body, so much blaster fire. Leia closed her eyes against it all, wanting to push it all away.

"Leia! Open your eyes! Leia!"

The first thing she was aware of was the intense burning near her shoulder, the trembling of her body, and his hands pressed against her. She opened her eyes to find Han hovering over her, his hazel eyes bearing down on her in a way she had never seen him look at her before. Her head began to spin.

"How is she?" she heard Crag ask as he continued to fire at the Imperials.

Han looked up at Crag, pressed his lips together, and then turned his hazel eyes back to her. She thougt she saw Crag nod before he returned to the fire fight.

"You're going to be okay," the uncertainy in Han's voice countered his words. "The medic's coming."

She lay back down, "I've been shot."

"Yeah."

She took a moment to absorb this fact. Eight months ago, she endured the torture at Vader's hand and survived. She witnessed the destruction of her homeworld and managed to go on. She escaped the Death Star unscathed. She thought she was invincible, that nothing could touch her, but here she lay struck down by a blaster. Han's hands were pressed hard against her as he tried to control the bleeding. She was vaguely aware of the pain. There was something more important, something she had to remember…

"The little girl?" Leia's large brown eyes searched Han's face.

"She's okay," he wouldn't meet her quizzical eyes.

Leia's body went limp and she closed her eyes as a single tear slid down the side of her face.

"Where's the medic?" Han shouted.

The little girl…She was so close.

"Leia?" Han placed a hand on her temple and stroked her skin with his thumb, "Leia, open your eyes, Sweetheart."

She squeezed her eyes tight to stem the tears before she responded to his entreat. She gazed up at him, "How bad?"

Han inhaled, "Let's wait for the medic."

"That bad," she weakly smiled up at him.

"Nah," he forced a smile, "I just want a professional opinion."

"The little girl…"

"Sh," Han touched a finger to her lips. "You did good."

_But I failed,_ she wanted to say but she didn't have the strength. That poor little girl dying in the street , having to see her mother die before her own death. Did she feel the same pain Leia felt? Did she feel her life seeping from her body? Or were the fates merciful, granting the girl instant death? She hoped for the latter but the fates were rarely kind.

"I'm cold," she closed her eyes again.

"Leia, you gotta stay awake, Sweetheart," she felt him drape his jacket over her body.

Stay awake? All she wanted to do was sleep, she was so tired. Her breaths became shallow as her mind wandered away. Death tarried, beckoning her to give in. Her father was dead, all her family members, friends, people she should have protected. All gone.

"Leia!" Han slapped her face.

She blinked her large brown eyes open. Where was she?

"Where's that medic!"

_You should be dead…_

_I know._

How easy it would be to let go. No more pain, no more guilt, regret…

_You should have died on the Death Star…_

"You're going to be okay, Sweetheart."

Leia looked into Han's worried hazel eyes and marveled at the raw emotion. Worried about her. Suddenly she felt bad that she caused him such worry, questioned her decision to try to save the little girl, especially since her actions did no good. She didn't want to hurt him. But why would he be hurt? When did it happen, she having the ability to hurt him?

"Don't look so worried," she breathed, trying to comfort him.

"I'm not worried," he smiled down at her. "There's nothing to worry about."

Not everyone was gone, she ammended her earlier thoughts as she favored Han with a small smile. Leia fought to keep her eyes open, but her fatigue overtook her, and her world went black.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12:

The crisp air swirled around the open hangar and the morning sun beamed through the soft pink and blue clouds, creating a brilliant contrast to the sleek lines of the ships and speeders the hangar housed. It was an inspiring sight, but all Leia saw was a man. Han Solo to be exact. He was bent over the hood of a speeder, standing next to one of the Alliance's best mechanics, as they tinkered with the broken engine. Oblivious to her, he spoke quietly with the man as they manipulated wires and computer chips. Leia leaned against the leg of an X-Wing and watched him from a safe distance. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to his elbows, accentuating the definition of his arms, arms he had wrapped around her during the thunderstorm, arms that carried her to safety when she was shot. The muscles in his back pulled against his shirt as he helped the mechanic lift a heavy part of the broken engine, muscles that gave her a sense of security as if Han could carry all the weight of the world on his shoulders and not falter. And his hands. His hands deftly moved over the engine, hands that kept her blood from seeping from her body, hands that fought to keep her alive.

She owed him her life. Again.

Ten months or so, Han Solo had saved her life. It was he who tended to her until trained medics could reach her. It was he that kept her alive until they reached the _Falcon_ with his constant entreats for her to stay awake. It was he who watched over her until she fell into a dreamless sleep. And when they were back at the base and she in the care of the medical droids and technicians of the medical center, Leia sensed his ever-hovering presence.

She had drifted in and out of consciousness, and he was a hand stroking her hair, a thumb brushing her cheek, fingers squeezing hers, then retreating footfalls. He was there. Then through a drug-induced haze, she'd find his silouette leaning against the door as if keeping a vigilance over her until she was lucid and well enough to sit up in bed.

Of course, she had other visitors, members of the High Command, Chewie, and Luke was there, too, always seated by her bedside, entertaining her with stories of the pranks the Rogue Squadron played on each other, holding her hand. And she enjoyed Luke's company, was grateful that he was there for her, but it was Han whom she sought out. His visits were less frequent as her strength returned, and there was something clouding his hazel eyes, an expression on his face that she never saw before.

Guilt. Han Solo felt guilty as if it was his fault she was shot and almost died. Leia wanted to take away his guilt, to tell him that none of what happened to her was his fault, but his feelings were never spoken aloud and she knew he would never give her the chance to ease his self-reproach. It hurt her, though, to see him look at her this way and knowing there was nothing she could do about it. And she felt remorse that she caused him rue, for it was she who insisted that she join the mission in the first place. Even if he protested her presence stronger than he had, there was no way he was going to stop her. Leia was used to getting her way, but she never considered the consequences of her decisions.

Ten months had passed since Han Solo saved her life. Leia was still drawn to him, but it wasn't out of fear so much as it was something else. Her mood lightened and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She hadn't seen him since she was released from the medical center; he had stopped coming by to see her, which did hurt, but she understood his reason. How would he respond to seeing her now?

Han closed the hood of the speeder and shook hands with the mechanic. He looked in her direction and gave her a wary smile. Leia straightened her posture as he approached her. He wiped his greasy hands on a soiled rag

"So, they finally decided to release you," his voice was forced cheerfulness.

She hid her disappointment with a smile, "Took them long enough. I was going stir-crazy being cooped up like that."

He chuckled, "Guess you're feeling pretty good then."

Leia nodded.

"So what brings you to the hangar?"

"I was looking for you," she tried to sound casual.

"You were, were ya'?" he drawled.

She felt herself blush, "Actually, General Dodonna's looking for you."

"What does he want now?" irritation seeped into his light-hearted tone.

"He was impressed with the outcome of your last mission, the one where you ran supplies to Ardel," she explained. "He said only someone as idiotic and reckless as you could have pulled off that mission."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I'm sorry I missed that."

A cloud of guilt shadowed his face.

She hurried to change the subject, "Well, he'd like you to head up another supply run."

"What's in it for me?"

Leia rolled her large brown eyes, "That's for you and General Dodonna to work out, Captain."

"Tell him I'll do it."

His immediate response surprised her, "You're not going to wait to see what the General offers you?"

He shrugged and sported a lop-sided grin, "What can I say? I'm a nice guy."

She shook her head and surpressed a smile, "Well, thank you. On behalf of the Alliance."

"Consider the Alliance welcome."

An uncomfortable lull settled between them. Leia's eyes flitted between the rag in his hands and the streak of grease smeared across his cheek.

"Anything else, Your Worship?"

She bit her lip, "You have some dirt on your face."

"Where?" Han lifted the rag to his face.

"Right there," she pointed to his right cheek and he rubbed the rag over his skin. "No," she corrected. "There," she pointed again, and once again, he missed it.

"Here," she took the rag from him and stood on her tip-toes. She gently wiped at the grease spot on his face until it was clean. Once she was finished, she rolled back on her heels and handed him the rag, "There."

Han cleared his throat, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Leia offered him a closed-mouth smile.

"Anything else?" he asked as she stared up into his eyes.

"Yes," she lifted her chin. "I will be accompaning you on your next mission."

"No, you're not," his firm tone incited a familiar fire in Leia's gut.

"Yes, I am," she insisted with an air of royalty.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Han slammed his fists on his hips and leaned over her.

"As it turns out," she smugly smiled, "you have no say in the matter."

"If I'm leading the mission—"

"Who said you were leading it?" Leia raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips.

"Then who is?" Han narrowed his eyes. "I've got to go talk to them."

"You already are."

"What?"

"I'm the one leading the mission," Leia tried to keep the triumph out of her voice but failed.

"Is General Dodonna crazy?"

"Look, Captain," she pointed a finger at him, "I am quite capable of leading this mission, and the only reason you're on this mission is because General Dodonna has it in his mind that you are the best pilot. And since you have experience in smuggling, I agreed to allow you to join the mission."

"Oh, you agreed," Han crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes."

They assessed each other for a moment.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you agreed?" his eyebrows rose.

"Of course," she sputtered. "What else could it be?"

"Oh…I dunno," the right side of Han's mouth quirked up, "maybe cos you like me."

Her cheeks reddened and she mometarily lost the power of speech.

"Yep," he snapped his fingers, "that must be it."

Leia's heart pounded against her chest. Was she angry because of his arrogance? Or was it because he hit it right on the mark?

"You're delusional," she clenched her fists. "I'd ask Luke, but you're the more experienced one."

"Okay," Han openly smiled at her. "If that's what you want to believe."

"If that's—oh!" Leia clapped her hands against her thighs. "I don't have time to argue with you, Captain! The supplies will be loaded onto the _Falcon_ this afternoon. We leave at oh-six hundred tomorrow." She turned on her heel and retreated.

"Yes, ma'am," he called after her.

Leia's chest rose and fell with each breath as she stormed back to the command center. Her blood was boiling and her stomach was all tied up in knots, but she couldn't say that these sensations were all that unpleasing. Perhaps she'll have to go back later and supervise the loading of the shipment…


End file.
